virulent rage than had ever possessed him in his life. It was this thing—this thing that rolled on the earth and cried, which separated him from Jennifer.
"Get up," he said between his teeth. "Get up, you cur. Get up."
"Dick, you're malting a mistake," whimpered Ducane. "Robison was deeper dipped than me. On my soul he was. And he's dead. They must have turned him off long ago. Why can't you"
"In the devil's name—get up!" said Dick, and there was something in his voice which brought Ducane shaking and murmuring to his feet.
"You can't imprison me," he blustered. "I'll turn King's evidence. I've thought the whole thing out. There are others in it. I'll give you their names. But I won't go to prison. I won't put on that damned prison dress. It would kill me. Oh!—you! What did you come here for, you"
"That's better." Dick was taking his breath in long gulps. "Oh, Lord; if you'd only hit me!" he said.
"How did you know I was here?" Even in the close dark Dick knew that the man was wringing his hands and rocking like a woman in despair. "Jenny never told you. She was a good wife to me, Jenny was. She wouldn't tell you. Unless you made her! Did you make her? By Heaven, if you bullied Jenny"
Dick was interested. There was a spark of manhood in this creature yet, then. And it flamed at memory of the woman whom he had left to bear the weight of his disgrace while he lived in a skin tepee with Sweet Muffin.
"Suppose I did?" he said, and every muscle was twitching with longing to come to grips with this man who was Jennifer's husband.
But Ducane had slid back on the earth again; spurting into occasional imprecations and falling silent again in utter fear. He was like a damp fuse, and Dick had no time to wait for him to light up again.
"That's enough," he said. "Come on. You're camping with us to-night, Ducane, and the canoes are waiting outside. I guess you'll help carry them over the next portages. We're bound for Regina, Ducane, and you'll be very
