trembled, his breath came quickly. The hair had fallen upon his knee
from the letter--or the envelope, and it was wonderfully like HER hair!

From the direction of the factor's quarters came the deep bellowing of
Breed's moose-horn, calling him to supper. Before he responded to it,
Steele wound the silken thread of gold about his ringer, then placed it
carefully among the papers and cards which he carried in his leather
wallet. His face was flushed when he joined the factor. Not since the
night at the Hawkins' ball, when he had felt the touch of a beautiful
woman's hands, the warmth of her breath, the soft sweep of her hair
against his lips as he had leaned over her in his half-surrender, had
thought of woman stirred him as he felt himself stirred now. He was glad
that Breed was too much absorbed in his own troubles to observe any
possible change in himself or to ask questions about the letter.

"I tell you, it may mean the short birch for me, Steele," said the
factor gloomily. "Lac Bain is just now the emptiest, most
fallen-to-pieces, unbusiness-like post between the Athabasca and the
Bay. We've had two bad seasons running, and everything has gone wrong.
Colonel Becker is a big one with the company. Ain't no doubt about that,
and ten to one he'll think it's a new man that's wanted here."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Steele. A sudden flash shot into his face as he
looked hard at Breed. "See here, how would you like to have me go out to
meet them?" he asked. "Sort of a welcoming committee of one, you know.
Before they got here I could casually give 'em to understand what Lac
Bain has been up against during the last two seasons."

Breed's face brightened in an instant.