to the trading post. "I guess we'll have our hands full keeping order.
I don't envy the Major his job."

"And there are others he must handle as well," Dane replied. "I must
see him at once. Which is the best road to take?"

"You better follow that one along the side of the hill," the soldier
advised, pointing to the right. "There is a short cut down over the
bank some distance ahead. You can't miss it. There is another along
the waterfront leading to the mill-pond. That's the best one to take
coming back."

Thanking the friendly sentry, Dane hurried away, and in about fifteen
minutes came near the trading post. He walked slower now, greatly
interested in everything he beheld, from the quaint store to the people
gathered ground the building.

For years this post at Portland Point had been the Mecca for the entire
country. The owners, Simonds and White, carried on an extensive trade
with both Indians and whites. Enduring and overcoming great
difficulties, they laid the foundation of what to-day is the City of
St. John. The most important event, however, in all their career at
Portland Point was the arrival of the thousands of exiles in their
midst. They gave them a hearty welcome, and did all in their power to
aid them in the land of their adoption.

As Dane approached the crowd, he looked keenly about for Major
Studholme. Although he had never seen him, he imagined that he would
know him at once. He surely would be a large man, of princely bearing,
who would be busy issuing orders to his men. But although he saw a