up in a store all day with the fanfare of a city dingin' your ears from
dawn till midnight, an' beyond! An' what's the good of it? When ye
might be living up here in the land that still lays as God made it.
The Company can use men like you. You could have a post of your own in
a year's time."

For many minutes Hedin puffed at his pipe. "I am glad to hear that,"
he said at length, "for I am not going back."

"Not going back!" cried Murchison. "D'ye mean it? An' what about that
lass of John McNabb's?"

"That lass of John McNabb's has chosen another," answered Hedin in a
dull tone.

It was the seventh of June when Wentworth had dispatched the Indian
with the reports to McNabb and to Orcutt, and thereafter he settled
himself for three weeks of waiting. The activity at the post bored and
annoyed him. He complained of the noisy yapping of the night-prowling
dogs, cursed the children that ran against his legs in their play, and
when necessity compelled him to cross the encampment, he passed among
the tepees, obviously avoiding and despising their occupants.

Upon the fifth or sixth day, to rid himself of annoyance, Wentworth
essayed a journey to the rapids, and because no one could be spared
from the post, he ventured forth alone. When not more than ten miles
from the post, he turned his head, as he topped a rock-ribbed ridge for
a casual survey of the broad _brule_ he had just crossed. The next
instant he brought up rigidly erect as his eye caught a swift blur of
motion far back on his trail at the opposite edge of the _brule_. He