cle Steve and An-ina had only second place in his thought.

His reflections were broken by An-ina's quiet return.

"Supper--him all fixed. Marcel come?"

Marcel started up. And the shadows passed out of his handsome eyes. The
gentle humility with which An-ina addressed him was irresistible. He was
smiling again. His deep affection for this mother woman was shining in
his eyes.

"Will I come?" he cried. "Say, you just see."

* * * * *

Marcel had eaten his fill. He had been well-nigh famishing when he
arrived, and the simple cooking and wholesome food that An-ina set
before him was like a banquet compared to the fare of the trail, on
which he had subsisted all the open season.

Now he was lounging back in the rawhide-seated chair with his pipe
aglow. He was ready to talk, more than ready. And An-ina's soft eyes
were observing him, and reading him in her own wise way.

"You tell me--now?" she said, in the fashion of one who knows the value
of food to her men folk's mood.

Marcel nodded with a ready smile.

"Any old thing you fancy," he cried. "What'll I tell you? About the darn
outfit, the pelts we got? The woods? The rivers? The skitters? The----"

An-ina shook her head. His mood was what she desired.

"No. Marcel say the thing that please him. An-ina listen."

Marcel laughed. He had come home with the treasure hugged tight to his
bosom. He had promised himself that this was his secret, to be imparted
to no one--not even to Uncle Steve. An-ina had demanded that he should
speak as he desired, and he knew that his one desire was to talk of
Keeko. Now, he asked himself, why--why, for all his resolve, should he
withhold the story of this greatest of all joys from the woman who was
his second mother?

His laugh was his yielding.

"Oh, yes," he cried impulsively. "I'll tell you the thing that pleases
me. I'll tell you the reason I was held up. And--it's the greatest
ever!"

An-ina rose quickly from her seat.

"You tell An-ina--sure. It long. Oh, yes. An-ina say this thing--'the
greatest ever.'"

She was gone and had returned again before Marcel had dragged himself
back from his contemplation of the things which he desired to talk of.
It was a gentle hint from An-ina that roused him.

"Oh, yes? An-ina listen."

Marcel started. He stirred his great bulk, and re-lit the pipe he had
failed to keep alight.

"I'd forgotten," he said, with another laugh that was not free from