well laden. The
entire outfit had a well-to-do air that earned the traders' respect
even from across the river. Of the four men, one carried his arm in a
sling.

Stiffy and Mahooley ferried them across team by team in the scow they
kept for the purpose. The four hardy and muscular travellers were men
according to the traders' understanding. They used the same scornful,
jocular, profane tongue. Their very names were a recommendation: Big
Jack Skinner, Black Shand Fraser, Husky Marr, and Young Joe Hagland,
the ex-pugilist.

After the horses had been turned out to graze, they all gathered in
the store for a gossip. The newcomers talked freely about their
journey in, and its difficulties, avoiding only a certain period of
their stay at Nine-Mile Point, and touching very briefly on their
meeting with the Bishop. Something sore was hidden here.

When the bell rang for supper they trooped across the road. The
kitchen in reality consisted of a mess-room downstairs with a
dormitory overhead; the actual kitchen was in a lean-to behind. When
the six men had seated themselves at the long trestle covered with
oilcloth, the cook entered with a steaming bowl of rice.

Now, the cook had observed the new arrivals from the kitchen window,
and had hardened himself for the meeting, but the travellers were
unprepared. They stared at him, scowling. An odd silence fell on the
table.

Mahooley looked curiously from one to another. "Do you know him?" he
demanded.

Big Jack quickly recovered himself. He banged the table, and bared his
big yellow teeth in a grin.

"On my soul, it's Sammy!" he cried. "How the hell did he get here?
Here's Sammy, boys! What do you know about that! Sammy, the White
Slave!"

A huge laugh greeted this sally. Sam set his jaw and doggedly went on
bringing in the food.

"How are you, Sam?" asked Jack with mock solicitude. "Have you
recovered from your terrible experience, poor fellow? My! My! That was
an awful thing to happen to a good boy!"

Mahooley, laughing and highly mystified, demanded: "What's the con,
boys?"

"Ain't you heard the story?" asked Jack with feigned surprise. "How
that poor young boy was carried off by a brutal girl and kep' prisoner
on an island?"

"Go 'way!" cried Mahooley, delighted.

"Honest to God he was!" affirmed Jack.

Joe and Husky not being able to think of any original contributions of
wit, rang all the changes on "Sammy, the White Slave!" with fresh
bursts of laughter