. Shand said nothing. He laughed harshly.

"Who was the girl?" asked Mahooley.

They told him.

"Bela Charley!" he exclaimed. "The best looker on the lake! She has
the name of a man-hater."

"I dare say," said Jack with a serious air. "But his fatal beauty was
too much for her. You got to hand it to him for his looks, boys," he
added, calling general attention to the tight-lipped Sam in his apron.
"This here guy, Apollo, didn't have much on our Sam."

A highly coloured version of the story followed. In it Big Jack and
his mates figured merely as disinterested onlookers. The teller,
stimulated by applause, surpassed himself. They could not contain
their mirth.

"Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!" cried Mahooley. "This is the richest I ever
heard! It will never be forgotten!"

Sam went through with the meal, gritting his teeth, and crushing down
the rage that bade fair to suffocate him. He disdained to challenge
Jack's equivocal tale. The laughter of one's friends is hard enough to
bear sometimes, still, it may be borne with a grin; but when it rings
with scarcely concealed hate it stings like whips.

Sam was supposed to sit down at the table with them, but he would
sooner have starved. The effort of holding himself in almost finished
him.

When finally he cleared away, Mahooley said: "Come on and tell us your
side now."

"Go to hell!" muttered Sam, and walked out of the back door.

He strode up the road without knowing or caring where he was going. He
was moved merely by the impulse to put distance between him and his
tormentors.

Completely and terribly possessed by his rage, as youths are, he felt
that it would kill him if he could not do something to fight his way
out of the hateful position he was in. But what could he do? He
couldn't even sleep out of doors because he lacked a blanket. His
poverty had him by the heels.

He came to himself to find that he was staring at the buildings of the
company establishment mounted on a little hill. This was a mile from
the French outfit. The sight suggested a possible way out of his
difficulties. With an effort he collected his faculties and turned in.

The buildings formed three sides of a square open to a view across the
bay. On Sam's left was the big warehouse; on the other side the store
faced it, and the trader's house, behind a row of neat palings, closed
the top. All the buildings were constructed of squared logs
whitewashed. A lofty flagpole rose from the centre of