it
a trail out of sight at a gait that would leave a caribou flapping its
ears with worry. I mean that, every darn word, and the chairman and half
this fool committee are voting for it. Well?"

The appeal was irresistible. Keeko would have been less than the woman
she was had she further resisted the happy enthusiasm and youthful
impulse of this great creature who had been a stranger to her less than
an hour ago. There was honesty and confidence in every word he uttered,
and there was that simple boyish admiration in his good-looking eyes
which made the final unconscious appeal. She yielded, yielded in that
spirit which promptly left Marcel her slave for all time.

Her eyes were brimming with a smile that possessed the moisture of tears
of thankfulness.

"Guess this committee is unanimous," she said. "There's no argument left
in them. But it wants to record the biggest vote of thanks to the
chairman that was ever passed--and doesn't know how to express it.
We----"

But Marcel was on his feet and holding out his great hands to help the
girl to hers. His eyes were wide and shining in a way that must have lit
a happy smile in the steady eyes of Uncle Steve, had he been there to
witness.

"Where's your camp?" he cried. "I need to start my job right away."

The man's demand was thrilling with the feelings of the moment. Keeko
ignored his help. She, too, was on her feet in a moment, and pointing
away amongst the shadows of the forest to the west.

"Back on the river," she cried, catching something of the infection of
the other's headlong impulse. Then with a glance down at the fallen
moose which had been the means of bringing them together, her tone
altered to one of almost tenderness. "But this?" she questioned.

Marcel laughed.

"Don't worry with that. I'll come along for the skull and the horns when
the wolves have done with it. I've quit big game. I'm out for fox,
silver and black. I'm out to break Lorson Harris's bank roll--for you.
Come on!"

CHAPTER VII

SUMMER DAYS

The youth in Marcel was abundant, it was even headlong. But even so,
there was a strong steadying strain of wisdom in him, the wisdom of the
Northland, bought at a price that few can afford to pay. It served to
hold the balance under the influence of this new adventure.

It was something more than adventure. There was a significance in the
extraordinary encounter with Keeko that dimmed to the commonplace every
thrill he had ever e