able in front of him, his slim forefinger pointing to the
first few lines.

"They came on this day," he said, his breath close to the engineer's
ear. "These are their names, M'seur--the names of the two who destroyed
the paradise that our Blessed Lady gave to us many years ago."

In an instant Howland had read the lines. His blood seemed to dry in his
veins and his heart to stand still. For these were the words he read:
"On this day there came to our post, from the Churchill way, John
Howland and his son."

With a sharp cry he sprang to his feet, overturning the stool, facing
Croisset, his hands clenched, his body bent as if about to spring. Jean
stood calmly, his white teeth agleam. Then, slowly, he stretched out
a hand.

"M'seur John Howland, will you read what happened to the father and
mother of the little Meleese sixteen years ago? Will you read, and
understand why your life was sought on the Great North Trail, why you
were placed on a case of dynamite in the Wekusko coyote, and why, with
the coming of this morning's dawn--at six--"

He paused, shivering. Howland seemed not to notice the tremendous effort
Croisset was making to control himself. With the dazed speechlessness of
one recovering from a sudden blow he turned to the table and bent over
the papers that the Frenchman had laid out before him. Five minutes
later he raised his head. His face was as white as chalk. Deep lines had
settled about his mouth. As a sick man might, he lifted his hand and
passed it over his face and through his hair. But his eyes were afire.
Involuntarily Jean's body gathered itself as if to meet attack.

"I have read it," he said huskily, as though the speaking of the words
caused him a great effort. "I understand now. My name is John Howland.
And my father's name was John Howland. I understand."

There was silence, in which the eyes of the two men met.

"I understand," repeated the engineer, advancing a step. "And you, Jean
Croisset--do you believe that I am _that_ John Howland--the John
Howland--the son who--"

He stopped, waiting for Jean to comprehend, to speak.

"M'seur, it makes no difference what I believe now. I have but one other
thing to tell you here--and one thing to give to you," replied Jean.
"Those who have tried to kill you are the three brothers. Meleese is
their sister. Ours is a strange country, M'seur, governed since the
beginning of our time by laws which we have made ourselves. To those who
are waiti