"The other," he went on, with a backward jerk of the head to indicate
Leaping Horse, whence he had just come, "why, the other's just a sort
of dumping ground for the waste left over--after home's finished with
things. Bill, here, don't feel that way. He guesses we're on an
unholy vacation with home at the other end. You can't get the same
sense out of different heads."

He turned to Murray with a cordiality which was only less by reason of
the sex of its object. "And Murray, too. Well, say, it's worth while.
It surely is."

The trader's response was all sufficient. But his smile contained no
added warmth, and his hand-shake lacked the grip it received.

In five minutes John Kars had made his explanations. But they were
made to Jessie. Murray was left on the fringe of their talk.

He told her in his rapid, easy fashion that he was out for the whole
open season. That he'd practically had to kidnap Bill from his beloved
Leaping Horse. That his old friend was just recovering from his
consequent grouch, and, anyway, folks mustn't expect anything more than
common civility from him as yet. He said that he hoped to make Fort
Wrigley on the Mackenzie River some time in the summer, and maybe even
Fort Simpson. But that would be the limit. By that time, he guessed
Bill would have mutinied and probably murdered him. He said he hoped
to appease the said Doctor with a good bag of game. But even that was
problematical, as Bill had never been known to hit anything smaller
than a haystack in his life.

So he talked with the daughter of his old friend Allan Mowbray, knowing
of the man's murder by the Indians, but never by word or sign reminding
the girl of her loss.

Meantime Bill Brudenell deliberately completed the work of
superintending the "snugging" of the canoes for the night. He heard
his friend's charges, and smiled his retorts with pointed sarcasm. And
Jessie understood, for she knew these two, and their great friendship.
And Dr. Bill--well, she regarded him as a sort of delightful uncle who
never told her of her faults, or recommended his own methods of
performing the difficult task of getting through life successfully.

When all was ready they moved off the landing towards the Mission
clearing.

Ailsa Mowbray was preparing supper. The scones were nearly ready in
the oven, and she watched them with a skilful eye.

She looked still older in her moments of solitude. The change in her
wrought by th