y at the same time."

There were still more perplexing things in store for old Samuel
Ravenshaw that night.

"But why did you not bring Ian Macdonald along with you, Vic?" he asked.
"I expect his father here this evening from Fort Garry, where he went
in the morning for some pemmican."

Before Victor had time to reply, Ian himself stepped out of the
surrounding darkness. Just previous to this the party had been joined
by Herr Winklemann and Michel Rollin, who, after seeing their respective
mothers made as comfortable as possible in the circumstances, had been
going about the camp chatting with their numerous friends. Louis
Lambert had also joined the circle, and Peegwish stood modestly in the
background.

"Come along, Ian, we were just talking of you," said Mr Ravenshaw
heartily, as he rose and extended his hand, for the disagreeables of his
last meeting with the young man had been obliterated by the subsequent
kindness of Ian in going off to aid in the search for Tony.

Ian returned the grasp with good will, but he soon destroyed the good
understanding by deliberately, and it seemed unwisely, referring to the
two points which still rankled in the old man's breast.

"Tut, man," said Mr Ravenshaw, a little testily, "why drag in the
subjects of the knoll and my Elsie to-night, of all nights in the year?"

"Because I cannot avoid it," said Ian. "Events have occurred to-day
which compel me to speak of them--of the knoll, at least."

"Oh, for the matter of that," interrupted the old gentleman angrily,
"you may speak of Elsie too, and the old woman, and Cora, and all the
household to boot, for all that I care."

"I come here to claim a right," went on Ian, in a calm voice. "It is
well known that Samuel Ravenshaw is a man of his word; that what he
promises he is sure to perform; that he never draws back from an
agreement."

This speech took Mr Ravenshaw by surprise. He looked round until his
eyes rested on Tony. Then he said, in a slightly sarcastic tone--

"What you say is true. Even Tony knows that."

"Tonyquat knows that what Ian says of his white father is true," said
the boy.

At the name Tonyquat, which was the only word of the sentence he
understood, Petawanaquat cast a look of affection on Tony, while his
father and the others burst into a laugh at the child's sententious
gravity. But Tony maintained his Indian air, and gazed solemnly at the
fire.

"Well, go on, Ian," said the old gentleman, i