ions of
whitefish for the dogs, and some pemmican, hard bread and tea.

"You t'ink you can mak' For' George een t'ree day?" Jules shook his head
doubtfully. "Eet nevaire been made een t'ree day, Jean."

"No one evair before on de East Coast travel as I travel, Jules," was
the low reply.

Gillies, Pere Breton and McCain, talking earnestly, entered the room to
overhear Marcel's words.

"Welcome back, Jean; you are going to Fort George instead of Baptiste?"
the factor asked, shaking Marcel's hand.

"Yes, M'sieu, my team ees stronger team dan Baptiste's."

"When do you start?"

"Een leetle tam; I jus' feed my dogs."

"Are they in good shape? They must be tired from the river trail."

"Dey will fly, M'sieu."

"Thank heaven for that, lad. We've got just one good dog left in the
mail team--the one you gave me. The rest are scrubs and they came in
to-day dead beat. Two of our Ungavas died in November."

"M'sieu," said Marcel quietly, "my dogs will make For' George een t'ree
days."

"It's never been done, Jean, but I hope you will."

When Marcel brought his refreshed dogs to the trade-house an hour later
for his rations, a silent group of men awaited him. As Fleur trotted up,
ears pricked, mystified at being routed out and harnessed in the dark,
after she had eaten and curled up for the night, they were eagerly
inspected by the factor.

"Why, the pups have grown inches since you left here in August, Jean.
They're almost as big as Fleur, now," said Gillies, throwing the light
from his lantern on the team.

"Tiens! Dat two rear dog look lak' timber wolves," cried Jules, as
Colin and Angus turned their red-lidded, amber eyes lazily toward him,
opening cavernous mouths in wide yawns, for they were still sleepy.
Fleur, alive to the subdued tones of Jean Marcel and sensing something
unusual, muzzled her master's hand for answer.

"What a team! What a team!" exclaimed McCain. "Never have the Huskies
brought four such dogs here. They ought to walk away with a thousand
pounds. Are they fast, Jean?"

"Dey can take a thousand all day, M'sieu. W'en you see me again, you
will know how fast dey are. A'voir!" Marcel gripped the hands of the
others, then turned to Pere Breton, the muscles of his dark face working
with suffering.

"Father," he said, "if she should wake and can understand, tell
her--tell her to wait--a little longer till Jean and Fleur return.
If--if she--cannot wait for us--tell her that Fleur and Jean Ma