owed to two piercing points.

"Why? That's my business, my friend. I keep a flask to treat my guests
occasionally. Have you any objection?"

"It is against the law, I understand, and mighty bad for the Indians."

"Against the law?" echoed Raven in childlike surprise. "You don't tell
me!"

"So the Mounted Police declare," said Cameron, turning his eyes upon
Raven's face.

"The Mounted Police!" exclaimed Raven, pouring forth a flood of oaths.
"That! for the Mounted Police!" he said, snapping his fingers.

"But," replied Cameron, "I understood you very especially to object to
the operations of the whiskey runners?"

"Whiskey runners? Who's speaking of whiskey runners? I'm talking of
the approved method of treating our friends in this country, and if the
police should interfere between me and my friends they would be carrying
things a little too far. But all the same," he continued, hastily
checking himself, "the police are all right. They put down a lot of
lawlessness in this country. But I may as well say to you here, Mr.
Cameron," he continued, "that there are certain things it is best not to
see, or, having seen, to speedily forget." As he spoke these words his
eyes narrowed again to two grey points that seemed to bore right through
to Cameron's brain.

"This man is a very devil," thought Cameron to himself. "I was a fool
not to see it before." But to the trader he said, "There are some things
I would rather not see and some things I cannot forget."

Before another hour had passed the Stonies reappeared, this time on
ponies. The trader made no move to meet them. He sat quietly smoking by
the fire. Silently the Indians approached the fire and threw down a pack
of furs.

"Huh!" said White Cloud. "Good! Ver good!" He opened his pack and spread
out upon the rock with impressive deliberation its contents. And good
they were, even to Cameron's uncultured eye. Wolf skins and bear,
cinnamon and black, beaver, fox, and mink, as well as some magnificent
specimens of mountain goat and sheep. "Good! Good! Big--fine--heap
good!" White Cloud continued to exclaim as he displayed his collection.

Raven turned them over carelessly, feeling the furs, examining and
weighing the pelts. Then going to the pack horse he returned and spread
out upon the rock beside the furs the goods which he proposed to offer
in exchange. And a pitiful display it was, gaudy calicoes and flimsy
flannels, the brilliance of whose colour was only equ