?"

"The stuff that lays outside the door--Wentworth's stuff, of course!'

"In the cabin?"

"Yes, in the cabin!" cried the factor impatiently. "Ye didn't think ye
was to put it in the stove, did ye?"

Hedin moved slowly away in search of the Company Indians, and Wentworth
laughed. "Hasn't got quite all his buttons, has he?" he inquired. "I
should say the Company had treated you shabbily in the matter of a
clerk."

"Well, I don't know," replied Murchison. "I could have had worse.
'Tis not to be gainsaid that he's slow an' heavy of wit in the matter
of most things, but the lad knows fur. More than forty years I've
handled fur, an' yet to-day the striplin' knows more about fur, an' the
value of fur, than I ever will know. An' then there's the
close-mouthedness of him. Ye tell him a thing, an' caution him to say
naught about it, an' no bribe nor threat could drag a word of it from
his lips. So, ye see, for the job he's got, I could scarce hope for
better."

"I presume he knows only raw furs," said Wentworth casually. "He
could, of course, have no knowledge of the finished product."

"An' there ye're wrong. Of his early life I know nothing except that
he's a foreigner, raised in the fur trade. He can spot topped or
pointed furs as far as he can see them, an' as for appraisin' them, he
can tell almost to a dollar the value of any piece ye could show him.
But----"

The door opened and Murchison turned to greet a newcomer. "Hello,
Downey!" he called. "'Tis a long time since ye've favored Gods Lake
with a visit. Come up to the stove, lad, an' meet Mr. Wentworth.

"Mr. Wentworth, this is Corporal Downey, of the Royal Northwest Mounted
Police." At the word police Wentworth started ever so slightly, but
caught himself on the instant. He searched the keen gray eyes of the
officer as he extended his hand, but if Downey noticed the momentary
trepidation he gave no sign.

"So you're Wentworth," he remarked casually, as he swung the light pack
from his shoulders.

"_Captain_ Wentworth."

"Oh," Downey accorded him a slanting glance, and entered into
conversation with Murchison.

"You knew my name, do you want to see me?" Wentworth interrupted after
a wait of several minutes.

"No, not in particular. Only if I was you I'd beware of a dark-haired
man, as the fortune-tellers say."

"What do you mean?"

"I met Alex Thumb a piece back on the trail."

"Well, what of it? What has that got to do with me