For two days, affairs in the camp remained unchanged. Donald, unobtrusively watching events, saw Charley Seguis often in conference with old Maria. The faces of both were lighted with a certain joy, but, at times, that of the half-breed seemed to assume a brooding somberness. McTavish, for his part, was merely waiting. After that stormy day by the blasted pine, and the glimpse he had caught of the coveted certificate, a change had been wrought in him. He temporarily relinquished the idea of obtaining the paper: that had come later. Other things of more vital importance demanded his attention, things that boded no good for these men in whose midst he lived, unmolested, an alien. He had seen opportunity to serve the Company, that inflexible master which had almost crushed his life out more than once, and the inherent loyalty in him had responded. Where before he had been willing to give his life in defense of his own ideals, now he was setting personal desire aside that the Company might be served.

In the free-traders' camp, the situation was once more becoming acute. Supplies were again low, although the week allowed for the arrival of the French pack-trains was not up. The men were loath to leave the camp exposed, to search for the expected arrivals, and they hung on, trusting that the traders would come through.

The third morning after the talk with Seguis, the Hudson Bay man opened another conversation between them.

“I've changed my mind, Seguis, about staying here any longer,” he said. “The other day, you promised to fit me out for the trail, if I wanted to go, and I've decided to take advantage of that offer, if it's still open.”

“It is still open,” replied the other. “What has changed your mind so suddenly?”

“Oh, everything!” was the despondent answer. “I can't see much ahead of me, and I might as well hit the trail. I think I'll head for Labrador. I can make it just about when spring breaks, and I'll start over again.”

A light of exultation leaped into Seguis's eyes, but he did not betray his emotion either by voice or gesture.

“As you like,” he said. “When do you wish to leave? I can't give you much food.”

“To-day, if I can. I'm sick of this whole business. I'll take what you'll give me. And I'll say this, that you've treated me white—under the circumstances.”

“Please, don't say anything about it,” rejoined Seguis, quickly.

An hour later, Donald stood ready for his departure, the mask of humility and depression hiding the fear and worry in his heart. He must have one stroke of luck, and it had not come! Well, it wasn't absolutely necessary, but it would help.

Suddenly, out of the woods burst a man on snow-shoes, running at top speed toward the camp. Donald's heart leaped within him. Had he guessed right, after all? Had things happened as he hoped? The man glissaded down the hill, and, without any attempt to check his progress, began to yell at the top of his voice:

“Queek! Ze help! We must have him. I am of ze party FranÇais. We haf been attack' an' captur' by ze Hudson Bay men. Only I haf escap'. By gar! Come! Eet is only five mile, maybe four. I will lead you. Come! Come!”

Instantly, there was uproar in the camp. Everyone shouted questions and answers at once. A dozen men gave orders. Yet, in ten minutes, Seguis's whole force stood in its snowshoes, with cartridge-belts strapped on, and rifles ready. Grim determination and anger were written on every face.

Donald, in the confusion, slipped away swiftly over the hard crust, and took a position behind a breastwork of shrubbery, whence he could watch operations unseen. Five minutes later, the free-traders, with Seguis at the heels of the voluble guide, swung away, leaving a handful of wounded to look after the camp.

Now, it was McTavish's turn to fly. Without looking behind, he sped in the opposite direction, and laid his course for the big pine at Muskeg Point, two miles away. Despite the situation in which he was placed, the prospect of action, even the very exercise as he trotted along, raised a joy in his breast. The time for reprisal had come. Though he should go into exile immediately after, the blow he was about to strike would never be forgotten.

Arrived at the big pine, his heart dropped like a plummet. There were no men there, nor any tracks of men. Could it be that the factor had ignored his directions? No, hardly that, for the French trains had been captured. What, then, was the matter? With his eyes at their keenest, he looked about him.

The eye of the trapper is, under ordinary conditions, as powerful as some field-glasses; moreover, it is trained to see, not merely to look. In a minute, Donald resolved a weather-beaten bump on a nearby tree into the capote-shrouded head of a man who was peering from cover. He waved his hand, and the man stepped out. In a moment more, others came forth, ten in all, and surrounded him, plying him with questions. Timmins was there, and Buxton, and old Bill Thompson. When the greetings had passed, greetings reserved, but full of feeling, McTavish explained the situation at the camp he had just left, and indicated his project. Then, in the lead, he began the stealthy return march.

It was barely eleven o'clock when the party arrived at the edge of the woods near the camp. Of the five men that had been left, two were away fishing, and the others, barely able to struggle about, were seated around a fire smoking. Near them, and in the center of the camp, well protected by old blankets, was the huge pile of furs. This was the object of McTavish's solicitude. The first step in his plan had been to return to the Company the valuable skins that the free-traders had collected. With those gone, the whole organization would fall to the ground; it would have no excuse for being. Perhaps, then, its members would come back into the Company's roll!

Detailing a couple of his men to capture the unsuspecting anglers, Donald gave the word to advance. So quietly was this done that the three about the camp-fire, deep in some argument, did not notice their approach.

“Well, boys, the game's up,” cried Donald, fifty yards away, and the three looked into the rifles leveled at them, in utter stupefaction.

It was a bloodless victory. Swift hands disarmed the free-traders, and, presently, the surprised fishermen were marched in from the lake to join their comrades in misfortune. As there was much to be done, Donald disposed of the men in a characteristic manner. He had their blankets moved over to a stump that rose four or five feet above the snow. Then, he tied a foot of each with a long strand of rope, fastening the rope to the stump. A man investigated frequently to see that no one had tampered with the tether.

It was Donald's idea to save the furs without injury, if possible. Therefore, he and his men set about protecting them with a rude breastwork of logs. What solid embers of the burned warehouse still remained were dragged across the snow, and piled on that side from which Seguis and his men were expected to return. The woods sounded with the blows of axes as the skilled woodsmen felled dead trees, or cut branches, to fill the spaces between logs. While this work went on McTavish personally rounded up the supplies of the camp. There was little food, but considerable ammunition. Both of these he deposited behind the breastwork of logs. The wretches at their tether watched him with tragic eyes.

One man made tea, which all hands stopped long enough to drink. Then, the frenzied work went on again. By mid-afternoon, a formidable defense for the men had been erected. Behind it, the blankets and accouterments of the Hudson Bay party were gathered.

Suddenly, a distant shot was heard. Then, there was silence. It was as though there had been a signal given to which there was no reply.

“Mac,” said Timmins, “the old man ought to forgive you for this.”

“I don't care whether he does, or not. I'm not doing this for him. But, by the way, Timmins, where's the factor now? Did he go with the boys to cut off the Frenchmen?

“No; he's laid up at the old camp. You know that day you were captured, well, he was so mad at Seguis and his men that he lit out in the pursuit. He's ugly when he's mad, but he's too darned old to do them foolish things. When he came back, he was chilled, and what with getting over his wound, and the exposure of the chase, and everything, he came down sick again. So, when Bill Thompson arrived with your orders, he turned 'em over to McLean, and let him do what he liked. McLean hasn't been favored with too much brains, but he knew enough to follow them. Now, it looks like you had a strangle-hold on the whole business. The other bunch got the supply-trains, you say, an' we've got the furs. Don't know as I'd care to be a free-trader about now, or a little later.”

“Wait a minute!” cried Donald, who had been trying vainly to interrupt. “Is the factor really sick this time?”

“Yes. Dr. Craven's with him all the time, and he let it out that the old fellow's about ready to tune up his eternal harp.”

“And Miss Fitzpatrick? Where's she?”

“She's with him, nursing him like a child. But, whew! the way he treats her when he gets cranky! How she stands it, I don't know.”

Donald asked no more questions. His thoughts leaped the desolate, frozen miles to where a lonely girl watched hour by hour beside the wretched bed of her father, only relieved now and then by a perfunctory and uninterested doctor. He had not allowed himself to think of her often; it was a dangerous and poignant subject for him. He had kept his mind upon the plans that he had set in operation. If those failed, he might entertain the sickening thought of never seeing her again. He had no right to marry her and ruin her life, willing though she might be. Perhaps, it would be a cruel mercy to go away. All this, if his plans failed. If they succeeded, there was still the question of Charley Seguis and his own nonentity, the certificate in Maria's muskrat-skin bag, and—

“Hey! What's this?” cried Timmins suddenly, sitting bolt upright.

Donald peered over the protection, and stiffened into immobility. Out from the edge of the forest, silently and swiftly, poured Charley Seguis and his band, their guns held in readiness. Suddenly, they saw the change that had come over the camp, and halted abruptly in amazed groups.