up the wearing uncertainty of inaction.
The interval was not long, however. Almost immediately the other door
opened and the Factor entered.

His movements were abrupt and impatient, for with whatever grace such
a man yields to his better instincts the actual carrying out of their
conditions is a severe trial. For one thing it is a species of
emotional nakedness, invariably repugnant to the self-contained. Ned
Trent, observing this and misinterpreting its cause, hugged the little
revolver to his side with grim satisfaction. The interview was likely
to be stormy. If worst came to worst, he was at least assured of
reprisal before his own end.

The Factor walked directly to the head of the table and his customary
arm-chair, in which he disposed himself.

"Sit down," he commanded the younger man, indicating a chair at his
elbow.

The latter warily obeyed.

Galen Albret hesitated appreciably. Then, as one would make a plunge
into cold water, quickly, in one motion, he laid on the table
something over which he held his hand.

"You are wondering why I am interviewing you again," said he. "It is
because I have become aware of certain things. When you left me a few
hours ago you dropped this." He moved his hand to one side. The silver
match-safe lay on the table.

"Yes, it is mine," agreed Ned Trent.

"On one side is carved a name."

"Yes."

"Whose?"

The Free Trader hesitated. "My father's," he said, at last.

"I thought that must be so. You will understand when I tell you that
at one time I knew him very well."

"You knew my father?" cried Ned Trent, excitedly.

"Yes. At Fort Rae, and elsewhere. But I do not remember you."

"I was brought up at Winnipeg," the other explained.

"Once," pursued Galen Albret, "I did your father a wrong,
unintentionally, but nevertheless a great wrong. For that reason and
others I am going to give you your life."

"What wrong?" demanded Ned Trent, with dawning excitement.

"I forced him from the Company."

"You!"

"Yes, I. Proof was brought me that he had won from me my young wife.
It could not be doubted. I could not kill him. Afterward the man who
deceived me confessed. He is now dead."

Ned Trent, gasping, rose slowly to his feet. One hand stole inside his
jacket and clutched the butt of the little pistol.

"You did that," he cried, hoarsely. "You tell me of it yourself? Do
you wish to know the real reason for my coming into this country, why
I have traded in defi