The Fur Bringers. Footner Hulbert

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      A self-deceiving argument ran through Colina's brain like quick-silver: "If I go, I shall be tormented by the feeling that he got the best of me; if I stay a while I can put him in his place!"

      She dismounted. The young man turned abruptly to tie Ginger to the poplar-tree, but even in the boundary of his cheek Colina read his beaming happiness.

      With scarcely another glance at her he plunged down the bank and set to work over his fire. Colina sedately followed and seated herself on a boulder to wait until she should be served.

      Now that he no longer looked at her, Colina could not help watching him. A dangerous softness began to work in her breast; he was so boyish, so clumsy, so anxious to entertain her fittingly—his unconsciousness of her nearness was such a transparent assumption.

      Colina was alarmed by her own weakness. She looked resolutely at the dog.

      He was a mongrel black and tan, bigger than a terrier, and he had a ridiculous curly tail. He had received her with an insulting air of indifference.

      "What an ugly dog!" Colina said coolly.

      The young man swung around and affectionately rubbed the dog's ear.

      "The best sporting dog in Athabasca," he said promptly, but without any resentment.

      Colina bit her lip again. It seemed as if everything she did was mean. "Of course his looks haven't anything to do with his good qualities," she said. Here she was apologizing.

      "He's almost human," said the young man. "I talk to him like a person."

      "Come here, dog," said Colina.

      The animal was suddenly stricken with deafness.

      "What's his name?" she asked.

      "Job."

      "Come here, Job!" said Colina coaxingly.

      Job looked out across the river.

      "Job!" said his master sternly.

      The dog sprang to him as if they had been parted for years, and frantically licked his hand. This display of boundless affection was suspiciously self-conscious.

      The young man led him to Colina's feet. "Mind your manners!" he commanded.

      Job in utter abasement offered her a limp paw. She touched it, and he scampered back to his former place with an air of relief, and turning his back to her lay down again. It cannot be said that his enforced obedience made her feel any better.

CHAPTER V.

       Table of Contents

      AN INVITATION TO DINE.

      Lunch was not long in preparing, for the rice had been on the fire when Colina first appeared. The young man set forth the meal as temptingly as he could on a flat rock, and at the risk of breaking his sinews carried another rock for Colina to sit upon. His apologies for the discrepancies in the service disarmed Colina again.

      "I am no fine lady," she said. "I know what it is to live out."

      Colina was hungry and the food good. A good understanding rapidly established itself between them. But the young man made no move to serve himself. Indeed he sat at the other side of the rock-table and produced his pipe.

      "Why don't you eat?" demanded Colina.

      "There is plenty of time," he said, blushing.

      "But why wait?"

      "Well—there's only one knife and fork."

      "Is that all?" said Colina coolly. "We can pass them back and forth—can't we?"

      Starting up and dropping the pipe in his pocket he flashed a look of extraordinary rapture on her that brought Colina's eyelids fluttering down like winged birds. He was a disconcerting young man. Resentment moved her, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

      They ate amicably, passing the utensils back and forth.

      After a while Colina asked: "Do you know who I am?"

      "Of course," he said. "Miss Colina Gaviller."

      "I don't know you," she said.

      "I am Ambrose Doane, of Moultrie."

      "Where is Moultrie?"

      "On Lake Miwasa—three hundred miles down the river."

      "Three hundred miles!" exclaimed Colina. "Have you come so far alone?"

      "I have Job," Ambrose said with a smile.

      "How much farther are you going?" she asked.

      "Only to Fort Enterprise."

      "Oh!" she said. The question in the air was: "What did you come for?"

       Both felt it.

      "Do you know my father?" Colina asked.

      "No," said Ambrose.

      "I suppose you have business with him?"

      "No," he said again.

      Colina glanced at him with a shade of annoyance. "We don't have many visitors in the summer," she said carelessly.

      "I suppose not," said Ambrose simply.

      Colina was a woman—and an impulsive one; it was bound to come sooner or later: "What did you come for?"

      His eyes pounced on hers with the same look of mixed boldness and apprehension that she had marked before; she saw that he caught his breath before answering.

      "To see you!" he said.

      Colina saw it coming, and would have given worlds to have recalled the question. She blushed all over—a horrible, unequivocal, burning blush. She hated herself for blushing—and hated him for making her.

      "Upon my word!" she stammered. It was all she could get out.

      He did not triumph over her discomfiture; his eyes were cast down, and his hand trembled. Colina could not tell whether he were more bold or simple. She had a sinking fear that here was a young man capable of setting all her maxims on men at naught. She didn't know what to do with him.

      "What do you know about me?" she demanded.

      It sounded feeble in her own ears. She felt that whatever she might say he was marching steadily over her defenses. Somehow, everything that he said made them more intimate.

      "There was a fellow from here came by our place," said Ambrose simply.

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