he matter? He
judged that the poor night's sleep had had some ill effect upon him.
It couldn't be his shoulder. Certainly not! The pain in it was no more
than any chap could bear, even if he had to make a wry face over it at
times. He wondered whether anything he had eaten on the previous day
could have disagreed with him. He decided that it probably was some
canned meat he had bought at McGurn's. That explained the thing quite
satisfactorily to him. Anyway, it was bound to wear off soon. Such
things always did. With this cheering thought he sought to lengthen
his stride again, but a moment later he was dragging himself along,
dully, wondering what was the matter with him.

He was anxious to see Madge again. He must tell her of the finding of
her message. Surely he would be able to talk to her, calmly and
quietly, and to obtain from her all that she knew of this strange
jumble of mysteries. He hoped that she had been able to rest, that he
would find her less weary and overwrought. This girl had been badly
treated, sinned against most grievously. If there was anything he
could do he would offer his services eagerly.

"I expect she'll want to turn right back to Carcajou," he told
himself. "I wish I were feeling more fit for the journey. If Papineau
is home from his trapping he will help me out. But I'll feel all right
soon. This is bound to pass off. If I get too tired when I reach
Carcajou, Stefan will put me up for the night. It--it seems a pity
that girl will have to go."

He trudged along behind the toboggan. He could have ridden on it, most
of the way, but wanted to keep Maigan fresh for the trip to Carcajou,
for the trunk would have to go also. The light sled was nothing for
the dog to pull, of course, and sometimes he dashed ahead so that his
pace became too great for his master. Then he would stop and sit down
in his traces, to wait until he was overtaken. The road was
unaccountably long, that morning, but at last they came in sight of
the Papineau homestead and the cleared land upon which some crops of
oats and potatoes had already been raised, amid the short stumps of
the half-cleared land. In summer the river ran very slowly at this
place, and big trout were ever making rings on the surface which they
broke in their dashes after all sorts of flies and beetles. On the
land opposite, where there had once been a forest fire, the red weeds
that follow conflagrations grew strong and rank in the summer time and
l