and he knew
that he would hear the frank truth.

"Poor boy!" she said. "I don't know anything definite. Old Maria
hinted at a stain on your life, and father, when I demanded the
facts from him, said that he wouldn't tell me if he could, for it
wasn't proper for me to hear them. That's all I know. But, Donald,
never for a moment have I doubted you, or lost faith that you could
upset this whole tissue of rumor as soon as you laid hold of it."

"Good little princess!" he said gratefully, and pressed her hand
for a moment. "My conscience is clear, and, if I have your faith
and love, I can fight anything. God help these breeders of slander,
if I get hold of them, that's all," he added, grimly.

A little while later, armed with ax and knife, and accompanied by
Jean, who carried the home-made fish-line, Donald led the way
through the woods to the river that had brought him such precious
freight on the tide of tragedy. That morning while angling, his
eyes had seen many things. Fifty feet from where he sat, he had
observed an iced pool in which a back-set from the swift stream
probably moved sluggishly. He had noticed little tracks of five-toed,
webbed feet on the thin drift of powdery snow that led to the bank
above this pool. Last of all, he had seen a smooth incline worn
by these webbed feet down to the brink of the pool.

"Otter!" he had said to himself; and he had resolved to come back
later.

Now, with crisp instructions as to silence, he advanced noiselessly,
trying every bit of crust before he set his weight upon it, avoiding
tufts of underbrush, and repressing his breathing. Jean, a true
daughter of the North, sensed these precautions almost by instinct,
and followed his example. He did not seek the fishing-hole of the
morning, but rather a clump of trees on the bank back of the incline,
thanking fortune that the light wind was in his face, so that the
man-smell could not be carried down to the pool. With infinite
care, the two approached the shelter of the trees, and, presently,
when the wind rustled among the boughs, parted them and looked
through.

There, on the bank, was the whole colony of otters, engaged in an
exhilarating pastime. Head-first, tail-first, sidewise, singly and
in groups, the little animals were coasting down the toboggan-like
path they had worn from the top of the bank to the water's edge.
No sooner did they roll to the bottom than they raced to the top
and started all over again, slither