to think!" he said at last, standing up; "but
this girl must be saved. She must have her home here again."

Unconsciously he put the hairpin in his pocket, walked over to the
dressing-table and picked up the hair-brush. On its back was the legend,
"L. T. from C. H." He gave a whistle.

"So-so?" he said, "'C. H.' M'sieu' le capitaine, is it like that?"

A year before, Lydia had given Captain Halby a dollar to buy her a
hair-brush at Winnipeg, and he had brought her one worth ten dollars.
She had beautiful hair, and what pride she had in using this brush!
Every Sunday morning she spent a long time in washing, curling, and
brushing her hair, and every night she tended it lovingly, so that it
was a splendid rich brown like her eye, coiling nobly above her plain,
strong face with its good colour.

Pierre, glancing in the glass, saw Captain Halby's face looking over
his shoulder. It startled him, and he turned round. There was the face
looking out from a photograph that hung on the wall in the recess where
the bed was. He noted now that the likeness hung where the girl could
see it the last thing at night and the first thing in the morning.

"So far as that, eh!" he said. "And m'sieu' is a gentleman, too. We
shall see what he will do: he has his chance now, once for all."

He turned, came to the door, softly opened it, passed out, and shut
it, then descended the stairs, and in half an hour was at the door with
Captain Halby, ready to start. It was an exquisite winter day, even
in its bitter coldness. The sun was shining clear and strong, all the
plains glistened and shook like quicksilver, and the vast blue cup of
sky seemed deeper than it had ever been. But the frost ate the skin
like an acid, and when Throng came to the door Pierre drove him back
instantly from the air.

"I only-wanted--to say--to Liddy," hacked the old man, "that I'm
thinkin'--a little m'lasses 'd kinder help--the boneset an' camomile.
Tell her that the cattle 'll all be hers--an'--the house, an' I ain't
got no one but--"

But Pierre pushed him back and shut the door, saying: "I'll tell
her what a fool you are, Jimmy Throng." The old man, as he sat down
awkwardly in his chair, with Duc stolidly lighting his pipe and watching
him, said to himself: "Yes, I be a durn fool; I be, I be!" over and over
again. And when the dog got up from near the stove and came near to him,
he added: "I be, Touser; I be a durn fool, for I ought to ha' stole two
or thre