handling them?" queried Gaviller dryly.

"Peter Minot says so," said Ambrose simply. "That is why he took me
into partnership."

"He married a Cree, didn't he?" inquired Gaviller casually.

Colina glanced at her father in surprise. This was hardly playing fair
according to her notions.

"A half-breed," corrected Ambrose.

"Of course, Eva Lajeunesse, I remember now," said Gaviller. "She was
quite famous around Caribou Lake some years ago."

Ambrose with an effort kept his temper. "She has made him a good
wife," he said loyally.

"Ah, no doubt!" said Gaviller affably. "Do you live with them?"

"I have my own house," said Ambrose stiffly.

Here Colina made haste to create a diversion.

"Aren't the Indian kids comical little souls?" she remarked. "I go to
the mission school sometimes to sing and play for them. They don't
think much of it. One of the girls asked me for a hair. One hair was
all she wanted."

The subject of Indian children proved to be innocuous. They took
coffee in John Gaviller's library.

"Colina brought these new-fangled notions in with her," said her father.

"They're all right!" said Ambrose soberly.

Colina saw the hand that held his spoon tremble slightly, and wondered
why. The fact was the thought could not but occur to him: "How foolish
for me to think she could ever bring her lovely, ladylike ways to my
little shack!"

He thrust the unnerving thought away. "I can build a bigger house,
can't I?" he demanded of himself. "Anyway, I'll make the best play to
get her that I can!"

In the library they talked about furniture. It transpired that the
trader had a passion for cabinet making, and most of the objects that
surrounded them were examples of his skill. Ambrose admired them with
due politeness, meanwhile his heart was sinking. He could not see the
slightest chance of getting a word alone with Colina.

In the middle of the evening a breed came to the door, hat in hand, to
say that John Gaviller's Hereford bull was lying down in his stall and
groaning. The trader bit his lip and glanced at Colina.

"Would you like to come and see my beasts?" he asked affably.

"Thanks," said Ambrose just as politely. "I'm no hand with cattle."
He kept his eyes discreetly down.

Gaviller could not very well turn him out of the house. There was no
help for it. He went.

CHAPTER VII.

TWO INTERVIEWS.

The instant the door closed behind Gaviller, Ambrose's eyes flamed