at stake; besides, had he
not said to others, had he not vowed to himself, that he would not give
way an inch--no, not so much as a hair's-breadth--to these long-legged
interlopers, who, now that he beheld them, were evidently fur-traders in
disguise,--men who made use of a so-called saw-mill as a mere blind to
divert attention from the real object they had in view.

"Sir," said Redding, with quiet dignity, "I am the Fur Company's agent
in this district, in charge of the Cliff Fort."

Had Redding been in charge of the Rock of Gibraltar, with its mighty
armament of heavy guns, he could not have assumed an air of greater
importance.

"I am glad to hear it," replied McLeod, more and more perplexed by the
youth's manner, "because I have been anxious for some days to consult
you as to the exact boundary line of your Company's reserve."

"If you will accompany me to the creek," replied Redding, pointing to
the islet on which the McLeods had already marked off a portion of rock
and planted a couple of stakes, "I will enlighten you on that point."

"Willingly," answered McLeod, preparing to follow with his two sons.

"Hah!" thought Redding, as he drew near the spot and observed the
stakes, "not a doubt of it; inches indeed; they have encroached feet--
feet--if not _yards_ on our property."

He gave no audible sound, however, to his thoughts, until the party had
reached the islet, which was connected with the mainland by a plank,
then he turned to McLeod with the air of a man who has resolved to wage
war to the knife for his rights. Le Rue, seeing his master in this
mood, drew himself up, compressed his lips, and darkened his frown.

"The line of demarcation," said Redding slowly, but with much decision
of tone and manner, "runs _exactly_ down the centre of this stream and
cuts _precisely_ across the centre of this rock. Now, sir," he turned
abruptly here to look his adversary full in the face. In doing so his
vision, passing over the shoulders of his enemy, encountered the bright
face and astonished gaze of Flora McLeod, who had just come to let her
father and brothers know that their evening meal awaited them.

Reginald Redding was struck dumb. Glancing round to see what had
fascinated the gaze of the fur-trader, McLeod turned with a smile, and
said:--

"My daughter Flora, Mister--ah!--I beg pardon--your name is, I think--"

"Redding," murmured the fur-trader, with hesitation, for he had begun to
doubt his own