yonne he was afraid
all Fingers' knowledge of the law could do him but little good, that
Fingers had told him as much, and the little missioner went away
considerably depressed. He would talk with Fingers again, he said, and
offer certain suggestions he had in mind. Kent chuckled when he was
gone. How shocked _le Pere_ would be if he, too, could know!

The next morning Father Layonne came again, and his information was
even more thrilling to Kent. The missioner was displeased with Fingers.
Last night, noticing a light in his shack, he had walked down to see
him. And he had found three men closely drawn up about a table with
Dirty Fingers. One of them was Ponte, the half-breed; another was Kinoo
the outcast Dog Rib from over on Sand Creek; the third was Mooie, the
old Indian trailer. Kent wanted to jump up and shout, for those three
were the three greatest trailers in all that part of the Northland.
Fingers had lost no time, and he wanted to voice his approbation like a
small boy on the Fourth of July.

But his face, seen by Father Layonne, betrayed none of the excitement
that was in his blood. Fingers had told him he was going into a timber
deal with these men, a long-distance deal where there would be much
traveling, and that he could not interrupt himself just then to talk
about Kent. Would Father Layonne come again in the morning? And he had
gone again that morning, and Fingers' place was locked up!

All the rest of the day Kent waited eagerly for Fingers. For the first
time Kedsty came to see him, and as a matter of courtesy said he hoped
Fingers might be of assistance to him. He did not mention Mercer and
remained no longer than a couple of minutes, standing outside the cell.
In the afternoon Doctor Cardigan came and shook hands warmly with Kent.
He had found a tough job waiting for him, he said. Mercer was all cut
up, in a literal as well as a mental way. He had five teeth missing,
and he had to have seventeen stitches taken in his face. It was
Cardigan's opinion that some one had given him a considerable
beating--and he grinned at Kent. Then he added in a whisper,

"My God, Kent, how I wish you had made it!"

It was four o'clock when Fingers came. Even less than yesterday did he
look like the old Fingers. He was not wheezing. He seemed to have lost
flesh. His face was alive. That was what struck Kent--the new life in
it. There was color in his eyes. And Togs, the dog, was not with him.
He smiled when he shoo