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"Ah!" he said, drawing a long breath and looking with a faint apologetic smile at the anxious faces about, "pardon my alarming you.I am getting old.The long drive and the somewhat severe pain weakened me, I fear.""Indeed, you have no need to apologise.It is more than I could have stood," said Shock in genuine admiration.

"Thank you," said the old man."Now we shall get into blankets.Ihave the greatest faith in blankets, sir; the greatest faith.I have rolled myself in wet blankets in mid-winter when suffering from a severe cold, and have come forth perfectly recovered.You remember the Elk Valley, Perault?""Oui, for sure.I say dat tam ole boss blam-fool.Hees cough! cough!

ver' bad.Nex' mornin', by gar! he's all right.""And will be again soon, Perault, my boy, by the help of these same blankets," said the old man confidently."But how to negotiate the business is the question now.""Let me try, sir.I have had some little experience in helping men with broken bones and the like," said Shock.

"You're at least entitled to confidence, Mr.Macgregor," replied the Old Prospector."Faith is the reflection of experience.I resign myself into your hands."In half an hour, with Perault's assistance, Shock had the old man between heated blankets, exhausted with pain, but resting comfortably.

"Mr.Macgregor," said the old man, taking Shock by the hand, "I have found that life sooner or later brings opportunity to discharge every obligation.Such an opportunity I shall eagerly await.""I have done no more than any man should," replied Shock simply.

"And I am only glad to have had the chance.""Chance!" echoed the Old Prospector."I have found that we make our chances, sir.But now you will require lodging.I regret I cannot offer you hospitality.Perault, go down to the Stopping Place, present my compliments to Carroll and ask him to give Mr.Macgregor the best accommodation he has.The best is none too good.And, Perault, we shall need another pony and a new outfit.In a few days we must be on the move again.See Carroll about these things and report.Meantime, Mr.Macgregor, you will remain with us to tea.""Carroll!" exclaimed Perault in a tone of disgust."Dat man no good 'tall.I get you one pony cheap.Dat Carroll he's one beeg tief."The little Frenchman's eyes glittered with hate.

"Perault," replied the Old Prospector quietly, "I quite understand you have your own quarrel with Carroll, but these are my affairs.

Carroll will not cheat me."

"Ah! Bah!" spat Perault in a vicious undertone of disgust."De ole boss he blam-fool.He not see noting." And Perault departed, grumbling and swearing, to make his deal with Carroll.

Timothy Carroll was a man altogether remarkable, even in that country of remarkable men.Of his past history little was known.At one time a Hudson Bay trader, then a freighter.At present he "ran"the Loon Lake Stopping Place and a livery stable, took contracts in freight, and conducted a general trading business in horses, cattle--anything, in short, that could be bought and sold in that country.

A man of powerful physique and great shrewdness, he easily dominated the community of Loon Lake.He was a curious mixture of incongruous characteristics.At the same time many a poor fellow had found in him a friend in sickness or "in hard luck," and by his wife and family he was adored.His tenderness for little lame Patsy was the marvel of all who knew the terrible Tim Carroll.He had a furious temper, and in wrath was truly terrifying, while in matters of trade he was cool, cunning, and unscrupulous.Few men had ever dared to face his rage, and few had ever worsted him in a "deal." No wonder Perault, who had experienced both the fury of his rage and the unscrupulousness of his trading methods, approached him with reluctance.But, though Perault had suffered at the hands of the big Irishman, the chief cause of his hatred was not personal.He knew, what many others in the community suspected, that for years Carroll had systematically robbed and had contributed largely to the ruin of his "old boss." Walter Mowbray was haunted by one enslaving vice.He was by temperament and by habit a gambler.It was this vice that had been his ruin.In the madness of his passion he had risked and lost, one fatal night in the old land, the funds of the financial institution of which he was the trusted and honoured head.In the agony of his shame he had fled from his home, leaving in her grave his broken-hearted wife, and abandoning to the care of his maiden sister his little girl of a year old, and had sought, in the feverish search for gold, relief from haunting memory, redemption for himself, and provision for his child.In his prospecting experiments success had attended him.He developed in a marvellous degree the prospector's instinct, for instinct it appeared to be;and many of the important prospects, and some of the most valuable mines in Southern British Columbia, had been discovered by him.