meal for ten hungry mouths on limited resources; she was needed in the sewing-room where piles of kneeless knickerbockers and toeless stockings gaped for her. And she was needed here so long as the swarthy breeds and silent Indians chose to circle those walls and buy the worth of a dollar.

"Oh, it's fierce," she said again. "And here are some more coming."

Slicker looked from the window. Then he hugged himself.

"Tell me all the things you want to get rid of," he said. "Quick! I'll make Mrs. Taemana buy them. She can't ever say no."

"Happy Taemana," murmured Dick. "Was it a kiss you asked for, Slicker?"

"No. This was at the Hudson Bay Indian kick-up at New Year. I stroked her for an hour and she never let up to take breath. I—I—well, frankly, I did think she'd burst. 'Aha,' she said to everything I brought. 'Aha.’"

"Sorry I can't assure you that your persuasive manner was to blame," said Dick lazily. "My dear Slicker, don't you know that it is vulgar for an Indian to refuse food? Mrs. Taemana, being a specimen of high-bred society, couldn't refuse if she died for it. By the bye, I did hear that de Choiseaux was called in afterwards. Not that that has any connection, of course."

"She's a dear old soul," said Miss Chubb. "I'm very fond of her, Mr. Heriot."

"It is constant balm to a man to find how fond women are of their sex," said Dick. "Now, practically the only bond between men is the struggle for existence. We grant a man the right to live—off us, if he's clever enough; but we don't take much personal interest in the matter. It is the ladies who provide the encouragement—and the need for it."

Miss Chubb did not care to look at his eyes. She had never cared to look at them since she caught them watching her one day when Tempest passed.

"I'll give you plenty of encouragement to remove Slicker right now," she said. "He keeps me too busy to do anything."