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3 end, Leigh, the Hudson Bay factor, was busy. For these short hundred of men had a season's work behind them, rated at something like thirty dollars a month, with board and moccasins added. Round the window they shouldered each other, good-natured, grinning and awkward; reaching hard, rough hands for the dirty bills that made half their pay, and for the order which gave the rest in trade at the counters. Then they surged back to Hotchkiss and Lampard, swamping their substance in such things as the light, coarse tobacco which filled every pipe, and fine-tooth-combs, and scents, and blue and red and purple satin ribbons. Tommy Joseph had a place of worship on the counter, with legs swinging and hat thrust back from the broad, grinning face. For Tommy Joseph had brought in a silver-fox skin from the spring hunt before he went North, and the hundred-dollar worth of it lay in his thick hands now. Beyond the door and the reek of smoke and the noise loitered two half-breed girls, tall and sinuous, with the swarthy beauty that fades with such swiftness. Two-young-men laughed, rolling a length of purple satin between his sweating palms and stuffing it into his hairy chest.

"Florestine, she laike vous retournez, Tommy," he said, and Tommy slid off the counter with sheepish defiance on his face.

"S'pose you donnez moi de perfume—dat stinky-stuff," he said, pointing; and Lampard brought down a gaudy, gold-topped bottle of Jockey Club.

"I taike dat," said Tommy Joseph. "T'anks beaucoup."

He swept the change into his trouser-pocket and the bottle into his jumper, and sprang out into the tide that was setting towards Grange's Hotel. Little Beaver nodded slowly.

"Me t'ink Florestine she please you tell Tommy," he said. "Bien," said Two-young-men, shrugging. "Florestine's man he not say t'ank, mebbe. You t'ings in de scow yet, Louis?"

"For sure," said the young breed, and shouldered his way out and through the crowded street to the river. Here