"Now, I'm short of three verra necessary things, flour, tea, and steel
traps. I canna get them frae Edmonton. They didna fully honor my fall
requisitions, an' it's too late i' the season now. Yet they'll ask why I
dinna get the skins next spring, ye understand. If the Indians dinna get
fully supplied here, they'll go elsewhere; they can do that since
there's a French firm strung a line o' posts to compete i' the region,
ye see.
"Now I havena got the goods I need an' I canna get them frae Company
sources. But there's a free trader set himsel' up tae the north o' here
last season. The North's no a monopoly for the Company these days, ye
ken. They canna run a free trader out i' the old high-handed fashion.
But there's a bit of the old spirit left--an' this laddie's met wi'
difficulties, in a way o' speakin'. He's discouraged tae the point where
he'll sell cheap; an' he's a fair stock o' the verra goods I want. I'd
tak' over his stock to-morrow--but he's ninety-odd miles away. I canna
leave here i' the height o' the outfittin' season. I ha' naebody I can
leave in charge.
"The job for ye wad be tae go up there, inventory his stock, take it
over, an' stay there tae distribute it tae such folk as I'd send tae be
supplied in that section. Wi' that completed, transfer the tag-ends doon
here. I'd furnish ye a breed tae guide ye there an' interpret for ye,
an' tae pass on the quality o' such furs as might offer. He'd grade
them, an' ye'd purchase accordin'. Do ye see? It's no a job I can put on
anny half-breed. There's none here can write and figure."
"As it sounds," Thompson replied, "I daresay I could manage. You said it
would be worth my while. What do I gather from that?"
"Ye'd gather two dollars a day an' everything supplied," MacLeod
returned dryly. "Will ye tak' it on?"
Thompson stared into the fire for a minute. Then he looked up at the
Factor of Fort Pachugan.
"I'm your man," he said briefly.
"Good," MacLeod grunted. "An' when ye go back tae the preachin' ye'll
find the experience has done ye no harm. Now, we'll go over the
seetuation in detail to-morrow, an' the next day ye'll start north, wi'
Joe Lamont. The freeze-up's due, an' it's quicker an' easier travelin'
by canoe than wi' dogs."
They talked desultorily for half an hour, until MacLeod, growing drowsy
before the big fire, yawned and went off to bed, after pointing out a
room for his guest and employee-to-be.
Thompson shut the door of his bedroom and sat down on a stool. He was
warm, comfortable, well-fed. But he was not happy, unless the look of
him belied his real feelings. He raised his eyes and stared curiously at
his reflection in a small mirror on the wall. The scars of Tommy Ashe's
fists had long since faded. His skin was a ruddy, healthy hue, the
freckles across the bridge of his nose almost wholly absorbed in a coat
of tan. But the change that marked him most was a change of expression.
His eyes had lost the old, mild look. They were hard and alert, blue
mirrors of an unquiet spirit. There was a different set to his lips.