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Updated: May 21, 2025
Colina was unimpressed. "Now you're simply raising a dust to conceal the issue," she said relentlessly. Gaviller chewed his mustache in offended silence. Colina did not spare him. "Do you think you can make your child and hers into a prim miss, to sit at home and work embroidery?" she demanded. "Upon my word, if I were a boy I believe you'd suggest putting me in a bank!"
Wat you say to t'at, hein?" Old Simon was plainly disconcerted. He turned to Ambrose. "Will you speak?" Ambrose's heart sank. How is a dead man to sway passionate, living men? However, he rose with the best assurance he could muster. "I have only one thing to say," he began, conscious of the feebleness of his words. "John Gaviller is a sick man. I have seen the doctor. You cannot fight a sick man.
You must know yourself by this time; you must have known mother you ought to understand me a little but you won't try you're clever enough in everything else! You've made up an idea for yourself of what a daughter ought to be, and you're always trying to make me fit it!" Gaviller scarcely listened to this. "I'll have to bring in a chaperon for you!" he cried. "Oh, Lord!" groaned Colina.
The simple sentence had the effect of the ringing of an alarm going inside the dreamy Ambrose. He drew a careful mask over his face, and leaned farther into the shadow. "So!" said Peter with a glance in the direction of his young partner. "That is news! Who is she?" "Colina Gaviller, the trader's daughter," said Poly. "Is she real white?" asked Peter cautiously.
Owing to the conditions of our business the traders have to be given the widest latitude in the command of their posts, and we do not always know what is going on. "Mr. Gaviller was very successful at Enterprise, but the disclosures at the Doane trial showed that his acts have not always been in accord with the policy of this company in dealing with the Indians.
Maybe my young men steal the grain and take it to Gaviller." "If they lay hands on my property they'll be shot," said Ambrose, curtly. Watusk spread out his hands deprecatingly. "Me, I tell them that," he said. "But they are so mad!" "John Gaviller is trying to use you to work his own ends," said Ambrose. Watusk shrugged indifferently. This was the real man, Ambrose thought. "Maybe so.
They speak of Gaviller. You and I have got to prevent trouble. You must tell them Gaviller is a hard man, but he keeps the law. He did not do this thing. This is the act of another enemy." "What good tell them?" said Watusk sullenly. "They not believe." "You are their leader!" cried Ambrose. "It's up to you to keep them out of trouble. If you do not speak, whatever happens will be on your head!
My fat'er say: 'This my house. This people my relations, my friends. My door is open to all. Then old man Gaviller is mad. He call my fat'er mal-content. He tak' away his discount." "Discount?" interrupted Ambrose. Tole frowned at the difficulty of explaining this in English. "All goods in the store marked by prices," he said slowly. "Too moch prices.
"Miss Gaviller," said Denholm, "I can only ask you to tell in your own words all that you know bearing on the offenses with which Ambrose Doane is charged." "My father, Mr. Macfarlane, Dr. Giddings have all testified, I suppose," said Colina. "They can tell you as much or more than I can.
When Ambrose and Simon got outside the teepee Simon asked the same question: "Where will you get it?" "I don't know," said Ambrose. "Give me time. I'll find a way!" "If Gaviller gets the Kakisa fur you'll make no profit this year," suggested Simon. "I have to consider other things as well as profit," Ambrose said. "There are more years to come." Reaching the dugout, Simon asked: "Where now?"
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