ving flesh, instead of the sheriff,
stood before him and told him to come out of that and get into the
canoe, he wept bitter tears of repentance and vowed that never, never,
never, as long as he lived would he ever again let liquor touch his
lips. A frame of mind which lasted in strength for nearly one day and a
half, and did not entirely varnish for three.

They passed Troy without desiring to stop, and began their fight with
the river. It was harder than when coming, for their course was against
stream when paddling, up hill when portaging, the water was lower, the
cargo was heavier, and Bill not so able. Ten days it took them to cover
those eighty miles. But they came out safely, cargo and all, and landed
at Warren's alive and well on the twenty-first day since leaving.

Bill had recovered his usual form. Gravely and with pride he marched
up to Warren and handed out a large letter which read outside, "Bill of
Lading," and when opened, read: "The bearer of this, Bill Bymus, is no
good. Don't trust him to Albany any more. (Signed) Peter Vandam."

Warren's eyes twinkled, but he said nothing. He took

Rolf aside and said, "Let's have it." Rolf gave him the real letter
that, unknown to Bill, he had carried, and Warren learned some things
that he knew before.

Rolf's contract was for a month; it had ten days to run, and those ten
days were put in weighing sugar, checking accounts, milking cows, and
watching the buying of fur. Warren didn't want him to see too much of
the fur business, but Rolf gathered quickly that these were the main
principles: Fill the seller with liquor, if possible; "fire water for
fur" was the idea; next, grade all fur as medium or second-class, when
cash was demanded, but be easy as long as payment was to be in trade.
That afforded many loopholes between weighing, grading, charging, and
shrinkage, and finally he noticed that Albany prices were 30 to 50 per
cent. higher than Warren prices. Yet Warren was reckoned a first-class
fellow, a good neighbour, and a member of the church. But it was
understood everywhere that fur, like horseflesh, was a business with
moral standards of its own.

A few days before their contract was up, Warren said: "How'd ye like to
renew for a month?"

"Can't; I promised to help Van Trumper with his harvest."

"What does he pay ye?"

"Seventy-five cents a day and board."

"I'll make it a dollar."

"I've given my word," said Rolf, in surprise.

"Hey ye signed p