from temple to chin by a
dirty white scar. He wore a pair of black-and-white checked trousers,
which, once Nick's, hung strangely on his meagre frame. He was absurdly
proud of this garment. His outer wear was completed by a black cotton
shirt, and the inevitable stiff-brimmed hat, without which no brown
youth feels himself a man. Xavier's face wore an expression of blankness
verging on idiocy; but he was by no means deficient in cunning. His full
name was St. Francois Xavier Zero.

Returning from the pump with the pail of water, as he passed Nick,
the big man threw him an idle word or two in Cree. Xavier grinned
comprehendingly; and Nick and Albert followed him a little way. Xavier
came up close behind Garth; and in passing him, made believe to stumble.
Some of the water splashed over Garth's legs. Garth swung around, and
took in the situation at a glance; Grylls and Albert were grinning in
the background. There was a crack as his fist met the half-breed's jaw;
and Xavier rolled in the dust. In falling the pail capsized, emptying
its contents on the cherished trousers.

Nick's guffaw was quickly changed for a scowl; Garth saw that an explosion
was imminent; and that quick thought was necessary. He knew he must at all
cost to his pride avoid trouble until he got Natalie off his hands. He
walked over to Nick; the big fellow clenched his fists as he approached.

"Hope I haven't hurt the beggar," said Garth blandly. "Perhaps he didn't
mean to spill the water; but you have to deal quickly with a breed.
That's your way, I'm told."

Nick was completely disconcerted by this unexpected line of action. His
hands dropped; and he muttered something which might pass for agreement.
Garth coolly returned to Natalie.

The breed picked himself up, and went crouching to his master with a
voluble, whining complaint in his own tongue. Nick lifted his hand;
and with a vicious, backhanded stroke sent Xavier again reeling across
the yard. It was the blow which was meant for Garth. Passion had set
Nick dancing to a strange tune. Albert, seeing the look in his eye,
instinctively edged out of reach.

Old Nell looked at these things with a resigned air that spoke volumes
for her daily life. Natalie kept perfectly quiet; but a bright spot
burned in either cheek, and she turned a pair of shining eyes on Garth
when he came back to her. His difficulties were by no means over. Old
Paul, feeling that it might be well to forego the pail of water,