to grow dark a single little lamp was
brought in and stood upon a dresser in the corner.

The wide room with its one spot of light and all the still, shadowy
figures conveyed an effect of grimness.

Simon Grampierre opened the meeting. Out of courtesy to Ambrose all
the talk was in English.

"Men!" said the patriarch. "John Gaviller send word that he will pay
only one-fifty a bushel for our grain. We meet to talk and decide what
to do. All must agree. In agreement there is strength.

"Already there has been much talk about our grain. I will waste no
words now. For myself and my sons I pledge that we will not sell one
bushel of grain less than dollar-seventy-five. What do the others say?"

One by one the men arose and repeated the pledge, each raising his
right hand. Ambrose began to be aware that the stolidity masked a high
emotional tension. It was his own presence that restrained them.

Simon rose again. "I have heard talk that you will spoil your grain,"
he said. "Some say let the cattle and horses in the field while it is
green. Some say burn it when it gets ripe. That is foolish talk.

"Grain is as good as money or as fur. A man does not feed money to
cattle nor burn up fur. I say cut your grain and thrash it and store
it. Some one will buy it.

"Gaviller himself got to buy when he see we mean to stand together. He
has made contracts to send flour to the far north. Who wants to speak?"

A little man of marked French characteristics sprang to his feet. His
eyes flashed. "I speak!" he cried.

"This Jean Bateese Gagnon," explained Simon to Ambrose.

"Simon Grampierre say wait!" cried the little man passionately.
"Always he say, 'Wait, wait, wait!' All right for Simon Grampierre to
wait. He got plenty beef and potatoes and goods in his house. He can
wait.

"What will a poor man do while he wait? What will I do--starve, and
see my children starve? If we not sell grain we get no credit at the
store. Where I get warm clothes for the winter and meat and sugar and
powder for my gun?

"What do we wait for, _un miracle_? Do we wait for Gaviller's heart to
soften? We wait a long tam for that I fink, me! While we wait I think
Gaviller get busy. He say he come and cut our grain. Will we wait and
let him?"

The old man interrupted here: "If Gaviller put his men on our land we
fight," he said.

"Aha!" cried Jean Bateese. "He will not wait then. You say let us cut
our grain and