y as
well work for the Three C's."

"Stay here!" commanded Father Leroque, patting the girl's arm. "Stay
where they can't see you." He stepped forward into the firelight. "Do I
understand that the Flagg crew is breaking up?"

"Fifteen of us in this bunch," restated the man, rapping his pannikin to
dislodge the tea leaves and holding it out for more of the beverage.
"Wedding brought us down--the news we hear is going to keep us going.
Flagg is done."

"Yes, if his men desert him. You mustn't do it; it isn't square."

The priest found it easy to locate the recreants among the other
rivermen; they shifted their eyes under his rebuking gaze. "Go back to
your work. Another will come in young Latisan's place."

"All respect to you, Father! But we can't do it," said the spokesman.
"We're Latisan's men. The rest of the gang will laugh us out of the crew
if we go back."

"I'll have Latisan himself on the job inside of a few days, my men,"
declared the priest, stoutly.

He had promised to them another who would take the drive master's place;
now he promised Latisan. The men were merely puzzled; they were not
convinced.

"Will you go back?"

"We can't go back." It was said with conviction, and a mumble of voices
indorsed him. "Still, all respect to you, Father! But Latisan won't fit
any longer even if he does go back. He has let himself be goofered."

Father Leroque had set up his temporary altar in many a lumber camp; he
knew woodsmen; therefore, he knew that argument with those men would be
idle.

"You have heard," he said to Lida when the two walked away deeper into
the shadows. "I'm sorry. But so the matter stands."

"But if I go now and talk to them--confess to them----"

"They are Latisan's own men, and the story is fresh, and their
resentment is hot. You will not prevail, mam'selle. And if you fail
to-night with those men you risk failing with all. You must go on to the
drive--talk to the others who are still loyal. I fear much, I must warn
you, but I will not try to keep you from what seems to be your duty. It
would be too great unhappiness for you if you should go back now,
feeling that you had not done your best."

The bandsmen had eaten of the wedding feast and were again valorously
making gay music outside the workshop building from whose windows poured
light and laughter.

"I can't go back in there--I can't!" sobbed Lida. "Right now I want to
hide away."

With gentle understanding the priest esco