sness is a bluff!"

"Maybe."

Lacking encouragement, he couldn't keep this up long. He fell silent
again, staring at her hungrily. Suddenly, with a sound between an oath
and a groan, he swept the dishes aside. Bela sprang up warily, but he
was too quick for her. Flinging an arm across, he seized her wrist.

"By George! I can't stand it any longer!" he cried. "What's behind
that smooth face of yours? Ain't you got no heart making a man burn in
hell like me?"

"Let go my arm!" said Bela.

"You're mine!" he cried. "You've got to be! I've said it, and I stick
to it. If any man tries to come between us I'll kill him!"

"Let go my arm!" she repeated.

"Not without a kiss!"

Instantly Bela was galvanized into action. Some men are foredoomed to
choose the wrong moment. Joe was hopelessly handicapped by the table
between them. He could not use his strength. As he sought to draw her
toward him Bela, with her free hand, dealt him a stinging buffet on
the ear.

They fell among the dishes. The coffee scalded him, and he momentarily
relaxed his hold. Bela wriggled clear, unkissed. Joe capsized of his
own weight, and, slipping off the end of the table, found himself on
his back among broken dishes on the floor.

He picked himself up, scarcely improved in temper. Bela had
disappeared. He sat down to wait for her, dogged, sheepish, a little
inclined to weep out of self-pity.

Even now he would not admit the fact that she might like another
man--a small, insignificant man--better than himself. Joe was the kind
of man who will not take a refusal.

In a few minutes, getting no sign of her, he got up and looked into
the tent kitchen. Old Mary Otter was there, alone, washing dishes with
a perfectly bland face.

"Where's Bela?" he demanded, scowling.

"Her gone to company house for see Beattie's wife mak' jam puddin',"
answered Mary.

Joe strode out of the door scowling and drove away. His horses
suffered for his anger.

CHAPTER XX

MALICIOUS ACTIVITY

Joe found the usual group of gossipers in the store of the French
outfit. Beside the two traders, there were two of the latest arrivals
from the outside, a policeman off duty, and young Mattison, of the
surveying party, who had ridden in on a message from Graves, and was
taking his time about starting back.

Up north it is unfashionable to be in a hurry. Of them all only
Stiffy, in his little compartment at the back, was busy. He was
totting up his beloved fi