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Updated: May 21, 2025
Brute MacNair upon the Athabasca and the Slave, and Mackenzie and in the haunts of the whiskey-runners, and 'Fool' MacNair in Winnipeg." "And among the oppressed and the down-trodden? Among those whose heritage of freedom you have torn from them? What do they call you those whom you have forced into serfdom?"
The harm had been done, however; his Indians were known to be rich, and MacNair found his colony had become the cynosure of the eyes of the whiskey-runners, the chiefest among whom was Pierre Lapierre.
During the several years of his service with the great fur company he assiduously studied conditions, storing up in his mind a fund of information that later was to stand him in good stead. He studied the trade, the Indians, the country. He studied the men of the Mounted, and smugglers, and whiskey-runners, and free-traders.
"LeFroy was away upon a mission, and that mission was to capture two others of your ilk two whiskey-runners!" MacNair laughed harshly. "Good LeFroy!" he exclaimed in derision. "Great God, you are a fool! You yourself saw LeFroy and his satellites rushing wildly for the shelter of the timber, when I unexpectedly appeared among them." The light of exultation leaped into his eyes.
"But," pursued the girl, "Lapierre was with us that night!" Lena shrugged. "Yah, Lapierre very smart. He send LeFroy 'long wit' das vhiskey. Den v'en he know MacNair's Injuns git awful drunk, he tak' ju 'long for see it." "LeFroy!" cried Chloe. "Why, LeFroy was off to the eastward trying to run down some whiskey-runners." Big Lena laughed derisively. "How ju fin' out?" she asked. Chloe hesitated.
Upon her table in the cottage, Chloe found a brief note to the effect that Lapierre had been, forced to hasten to the eastward to aid LeFroy in dealing with the whiskey-runners. The girl had scant time to think of Lapierre, however, for upon the morning after her arrival, MacNair appeared, accompanied by a hundred or more dejected and woe-begone Indians.
He's servin' notice that unless C.N. Morse & Company mends its ways, it can't do business with the N.W.M.P." "That all?" asked the head of the firm. "That's only half of it. The other half is that no firm of whiskey-runners will be allowed to trade across the line." C.N. gave another little chirrup of mirth. "Keep your brains whittled up, don't you? Any advice you'd like to give?"
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