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"I say there is not'ing for me here. Old man Gaviller all tam mad at us. We don't get along. I say I fink I go east to Lake Miwasa. There is free trade there. Maybe I get work in the summer. When they tell me Ambrose Doane is come, I say this is lucky. I will talk wit' him." "Good," said Ambrose. "Wat you t'ink?" asked Tole, masking anxiety under a careless air.
"A man can make himself believe what he likes. We treat the Indians like human beings. Around us they're doing well for the first time. Here, where you have your monopoly, they're sick and starving!" "That is not true," said Gaviller coolly. "And, in any case, I do not mean to discuss my business with you. I deal openly. You had the opportunity to do my daughter a slight service.
"Is it being yourself to act like a harum-scarum tomboy?" inquired Gaviller sarcastically. Colina laughed. "Yes!" she said boldly. "If that's what you want to call it? There's something in me," she went on seriously. "I don't know what it is some wild strain; something that drives me headlong; makes me see red when I am balked! Maybe it is just too much physical energy.
"Well?" said Gaviller. "Oh, I'll choose the handsomest beast I can find," she said, laughing over her shoulder and escaping from the room before he could answer. John Gaviller finished his egg with a frown. Colina had this trick of breaking things off in the middle, and it irritated him. He had an orderly mind. Colina groomed her own horse, whistling like a boy.
Gaviller expects to get the fur anyway," said Strange with a seeming deprecatory air but the suspicion of a smirk wreathed his full lips. "Then I am to understand that you refuse to grind my grain at any price," said Ambrose. "Orders are orders," murmured Strange. "Has Gaviller given you this order since he knew the people were hungry?" "He has told me his mind many times."
That was at the last spell before reaching the fort. He asked for a razor. Colina might scorn him like the others, but she should not see him looking like a tramp. Immediately upon their arrival at Fort Enterprise, John Gaviller in his capacity as Justice of the Peace held a hearing in the police room in the quarters.
Colina Gaviller she moch friends with Michel Trudeau for because he was bring her in on his raf las' fall. "Often she go with him lak she go with me. Michel carry her up on his sledge, and she hunt aroun' while he visit his traps. Michel trap up on the bench three mile from the fort. He not get much fur so near, but live home in a warm house, and work for day's wages for John Gaviller."
I say do not accept his price do not refuse it. The grain is not ripe yet. Wait till he is well." A murmur of dissent went around the room. Ambrose being a stranger, there was a note of politeness in it. Jean Bateese sprang to his feet again. "Ambrose Doane say wait!" he said. "He is good man. We lak him. But me, I am sick of waiting! "To-day we hear John Gaviller is sick. All are sorry.
"My fat'er t'ink about it. He is not moch for farm. But he t'ink, well, some day there is no more fur. But always there is mouths for bread. If I be farmer and teach my boys, they not starve when fur is no more. "My fat'er say to Gaviller: 'All right. Writings are made and signed. The ot'er men with good land on the river, they say they raise wheat, too. "After that the machines is brought in.
"That is not a direct answer. Some one must take the full responsibility. If I write a short note to Gaviller will you deliver it and bring me back an answer?" Strange hesitated for the fraction of a second. "Yes," he said. Ambrose wrote a succinct statement of the situation, and Strange departed. "Gaviller will never do it," said Simon. "I don't expect him to," said Ambrose.
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