right into your hands, an' when you've eaten the stuff wrote
ther', why, you need to light a pipe with it, an' see ther's none left
over. I've been takin' a hand up to now. But ther's reasons why I've cut
out. It's for you now. Can we parley?"

The trader's cordiality had become absorbed in a deeply serious regard.
He was guessing hard. Lorson Harris was the one man in the world whom he
seriously feared. He knew he was bound to him by chains which galled
every time he strained against them. The great trader's tentacles were
spread out over the length and breadth of the Northland. There was no
escape from them. He had said a few moments before that here, at Fort
Duggan, they were a thousand miles from anywhere. But then he was
thinking of something quite different. So long as he lived in the
Northland he knew he was within immediate reach of Lorson Harris. What
was this message from Lorson Harris? What did it portend?

He abruptly turned and indicated the broad sill of the door of the main
fort building.

"Sit right here, boy," he said, forcing himself to a return to his
original cordiality. "Guess there's room for us both. We can talk till
you're tired here. After we're through I don't seem to see any
difficulty in raking out a bucket of red-hot fire juice or any other old
thing you happen to fancy."

Tough Alroy grinned and accepted the invitation.

"That's the talk," he said. "Here's Lorson's letter. You read that right
away, and I'll make a big talk after."

The two men sat down, and while Nicol tore open the dirty envelope, and
read his taskmaster's orders, Tough lit a pipe, and watched him out of
the corners of his black, restless, wicked eyes.

CHAPTER VI

THE KING OF THE FOREST

A roar of fury echoes through the primeval forest. It plays amidst the
countless aisles of jack-pine. It loses itself in the dense growing
tamarack, or dies amidst the softer plumage of spruce. It is no mere
bellow of impotent rage. It is a note of defiance. It is a challenge to
the legions of the forest. It is the gage of battle flung without
reserve.

Wide-set eyes blaze their search amidst the deeper shadows. They are
eager as well as furious. They are seeking an adversary who shuns open
conflict and wounds from afar. The great head is proudly raised aloft,
and gaping nostrils on a great clubbed muzzle snuff violently at the
air. A treacherous blow has torn open the channels of life and saturated
the heaving flank