p. Suddenly there was a blinding flash, followed
by a loud report, and then from the warring clouds the longed-for rain
began to pour in heavy sheets.

For some time before the storm broke, Joe had been standing in the
opening of the tent, gazing with furrowed brow, through the gathering
darkness, toward a tent much larger than those of the ordinary
laborers, in the shadow of which was dimly outlined the forms of a man
and a woman. He at once recognized the woman as Nellie Shuter (the
only white woman in camp), daughter of Bill Shuter, a general
storekeeper and purveyor of smuggled and doctored whiskey. The man
with her he knew was his mate, Harry Langdon.

The moment the rain began to fall, Nellie ran into the large tent--her
father's store--and left Harry, who, regardless of the storm, stood
for fully a minute looking after her. As he was about to turn, a
figure, muffled in a gaudy colored blanket, emerged from behind an
adjacent tent and touched him, in a supplicating manner, on the
shoulder. He turned hastily, and seeing who it was, pushed the
intruding hand away. As he did so the blanket fell away from the head
and shoulders of the figure, and there stood revealed a young Indian
girl belonging to the Cree tribe, several of whom--both Indians and
squaws--had for weeks been following the encampment.

Instead of leaving him, she raised her hands in an imploring manner,
and her lips moved. Her pleading evidently had no effect upon Harry,
as he turned and left her abruptly. With an angry gesture she turned
and vanished in the direction of the Indian encampment.

After Harry had returned, Joe sat for quite a long time with a
troubled look on his face, silently pulling at his pipe. Harry seemed
too much engrossed in thought to be aware of his companion's unwonted
silence.

"I seed you again, to-night, with Bill Shuter's daughter," began Joe
at last, breaking a silence that had begun to grow painful to him.

The reference to the girl caused a flush to steal over Harry's face,
and he said, as he sat down by the big fellow's side, "You are very
good, old fellow, to take the interest you do in me. I should have
been in a queer way now had it not been for you; yet, old chap, I
cannot bring myself to believe that Nellie Shuter and her father are
as bad as you have hinted several times." As he concluded he walked to
the opening of the tent and looked out: it was still raining heavily.
"I guess, Joe," he went on awkwardly,