called. "Hold on, Brown! I can't do it! I can't leave
her like that!"

He wheeled his horse about and, plunging back through the snow,
rode again to her door. Her eyes radiated as she looked at him.
Years had been wiped from his face since the morning. He was a
laughing boy once more.

"You are right," he said, "I cannot keep my little girl in that
rough camp. You said it was no place for a girl child. You are
right. I will send her into Calgary until my survey is over.
Catharine, will you go with her, take care of her, nurse her,
guard her for me? You said I was as your own son; will you be that
good mother to me that you want to be? Will you do this for your
white boy?"

He had never seen her smile before. A moment ago her heart had been
breaking, but now she knew with a great gladness that she was not
only going to keep and care for Margie, but that this laughing boy
would be as a son to her for all time. No wonder Catharine of the
Crow's Nest smiled!

A Red Girl's Reasoning

"Be pretty good to her, Charlie, my boy, or she'll balk sure as
shooting."

That was what old Jimmy Robinson said to his brand new son-in-law,
while they waited for the bride to reappear.

"Oh! you bet, there's no danger of much else. I'll be good to her,
help me Heaven," replied Charlie McDonald, brightly.

"Yes, of course you will," answered the old man, "but don't you
forget, there's a good big bit of her mother in her, and," closing
his left eye significantly, "you don't understand these Indians as
I do."

"But I'm just as fond of them, Mr. Robinson," Charlie said
assertively, "and I get on with them too, now, don't I?"

"Yes, pretty well for a town boy; but when you have lived forty
years among these people, as I have done; when you have had your
wife as long as I have had mine--for there's no getting over it,
Christine's disposition is as native as her mother's, every bit--and
perhaps when you've owned for eighteen years a daughter as dutiful,
as loving, as fearless, and, alas! as obstinate as that little piece
you are stealing away from me to-day--I tell you, youngster, you'll
know more than you know now. It is kindness for kindness, bullet for
bullet, blood for blood. Remember, what you are, she will be," and
the old Hudson Bay trader scrutinized Charlie McDonald's face like
a detective.

It was a happy, fair face, good to look at, with a certain ripple of
dimples somewhere about the mouth, and eyes that laughed ou