eam. The others, however, probably considered that this
was no occasion for further bad behavior and old Jennie, mother of
three of the bunch, led it without making any serious mistakes.

For the life of him Stefan couldn't conceive why anyone should
want to bother Hugo or the pretty lady. It was the very strangeness
and mystery of the thing that aroused him. He never entertained the
idea that Papineau was mistaken. The Frenchman was a fine smart
fellow, one who loved Hugo, and a man not given to idle notions or to
exaggeration. If he thought there was something wrong this must be
the case.

On a long upgrade he ran at the side of his dogs, his great chest
heaving at the tremendous effort. On the level he rode, urging the
animals on and keeping his eyes on the tracks of the horses and
sleigh, while his strong stern face seemed immovably frozen into an
expression of grim determination. Anyone who touched his friend Hugo
would have to reckon with him, indeed. The man was one of the few
beings he cared for, like his wife or the young ones. Such a
friendship was a possession, something he owned, a treasure he would
not be robbed of and was prepared to defend, as he would have defended
his little hoard of money, the home he had built, with the berserker
fury of his ancestors. He was conscious of his might, conscious that
there were few men on earth who could stand up against him in the
rough and tumble fighting current in the far wilderness. He knew that
he could go through such a crowd as was threatening his friend like a
devastating cyclone through a cornfield.

"If dey's qviet un' reasonable I don't 'urt nobotty but yoost tell 'em
git out of here, tarn qvick," he projected. "But if dem mens is up to
anything rough I hope dey says dere prayers alretty, because I yoost
bust 'em all up, you bet."

The team was pulling hard, the breaths coming out in swift little
puffs from their nostrils. Sometimes they walked, with tongues hanging
out, while again they trotted easily, or, down the hills, galloped
with the long easy lope of their wolfish ancestors. And Stefan
calculated the speed the horses could have made here, and again over
there. By the tracks he saw where they had trotted along good ground,
or toiled more slowly over rough places. The man grinned when he came
to spots where they must have proceeded very slowly with the heavy
sleigh, and his brows corrugated when he saw that they had speeded up
again.

"Dey drive