and　more　slowly；　and　at　length；　coming　to　the　end　of　the　field；　refused　to　move　farther。
  〃Let　them　stand　a　bit；　Callum　boy；〃　said　Mackenzie　kindly。　　〃Come　and　have　a　rest。　　You　are　the　fine　driver。　　Come　and　sit　down。〃
  〃Will　the　horses　stand　here？〃　asked　Kalman；　whose　sense　of　responsibility　deepened　as　he　became　aware　of　Mackenzie's　growing　incapacity。
  Mackenzie　laughed　pleasantly。　　〃Will　they　stand？　　Yes；　and　that　they　will；　unless　they　will　lie　down。〃
  Kalman　approached　and　regarded　him　with　the　eye　of　an　expert。
  〃Look　here；　where's　your　stuff？〃　said　the　boy　at　length。
  Mackenzie　gazed　at　him　with　the　innocence　of　childhood。
  〃What　iss　it？〃
  〃Oh；　come　off　your　perch！　you　blamed　old　rooster！　　Where's　your　bottle？〃
  〃What　iss　this？〃　said　Mackenzie；　much　affronted。　　〃You　will　be　calling　me　names？〃
  As　he　rose　in　his　indignation　a　bottle　fell　from　his　pocket。　Kalman　made　a　dash　toward　it；　but　Mackenzie　was　too　quick　for　him。　With　a　savage　curse　he　snatched　up　the　bottle；　and　at　the　same　time　made　a　fierce　but　unsuccessful　lunge　at　the　boy。
  〃You　little　deevil！〃　he　said　fiercely；　〃I　will　be　knocking　your　head　off！〃
  Kalman　jibed　at　him。　　〃You　are　a　nice　sort　of　fellow　to　be　on　a　job。　　What　will　your　boss　say？〃
  Mackenzie's　face　changed　instantly。
  〃The　boss？〃　he　said；　glancing　in　the　direction　of　the　house。　　〃The　boss？　　What　iss　the　harm　of　a　drop　when　you　are　not　well？〃
  〃You　not　well！〃　exclaimed　Kalman　scornfully。
  Mackenzie　shook　his　head　sadly；　sinking　back　upon　the　grass。　　〃It　iss　many　years　now　since　I　have　suffered　with　an　indisposeetion　of　the　bowels。　　It　iss　a　coalic；　I　am　thinking；　and　it　iss　hard　on　me。　But；　Callum；　man；　it　will　soon　be　denner　time。　　Just　put　your　horses　in　and　I　will　be　following　you。〃
  But　Kalman　knew　better　than　that。
  〃I　don't　know　how　to　put　in　your　horses。　　Come　and　put　them　in　yourself；　or　show　me　how　to　do　it。〃　　He　was　indignant　with　the　man　on　his　master's　behalf。
  Mackenzie　struggled　to　his　feet；　holding　the　bottle　carefully　in　his　outside　coat　pocket。　　Kalman　made　up　his　mind　to　possess　himself　of　that　bottle　at　all　costs。　　The　opportunity　occurred　when　Mackenzie；　stooping　to　unhitch　the　last　trace；　allowed　the　bottle　to　slip　from　his　pocket。　　Like　a　cat　on　a　mouse；　Kalman　pounced　on　the　bottle　and　fled。
  The　change　in　Mackenzie　was　immediate　and　appalling。　　His　smiling　face　became　transformed　with　fury；　his　black　eyes　gleamed　with　the　cunning　malignity　of　the　savage；　he　shed　his　soft　Scotch　voice　with　his　genial　manner；　the　very　movements　of　his　body　became　those　of　his　Cree　progenitors。　　Uttering　hoarse　guttural　cries；　with　the　quick　crouching　run　of　the　Indian　on　the　trail　of　his　foe；　he　chased　Kalman　through　the　bluffs。　　There　was　something　so　fiendishly　terrifying　in　the　glimpses　that　Kalman　caught　of　his　face　now　and　then　that　the　boy　was　seized　with　an　overpowering　dread；　and　ceasing　to　tantalize　his　pursuing　enemy；　he　left　the　bluffs　and　fled　toward　the　house；　with　Mackenzie　hard　upon　his　track。　　Through　the　shed　the　boy　flew　and　into　the　outer　room；　banging　the　door　hard　after　him。　But　there　was　no　lock　upon　the　door；　and　he　could　not　hope　to　hold　it　shut　against　his　pursuer。　　He　glanced　wildly　into　the　inner　room。　French　was　nowhere　to　be　seen。　　As　he　stood　in　unspeakable　terror；　the　door　opened　slowly　and　stealthily；　showing　Mackenzie's　face；　distorted　with　rage　and　cunning　hate。　　With　a　silent　swift　movement　he　glided　into　the　room；　and　without　a　sound　rushed　at　the　boy。　Once；　twice　around　the　table　they　circled；　Kalman　having　the　advantage　in　quickness　of　foot。　　Suddenly；　with　a　grunt　of　satisfaction；　Mackenzie's　eye　fell　upon　a　gun　hanging　upon　the　wall。　In　a　moment　he　had　it　in　his　hand。　　As　he　reached　for　it；　however；　Kalman；　with　a　loud　cry；　plunged　headlong　through　the　open　window　and　fled　again　toward　the　bluffs。　　Mackenzie　followed　swiftly　through　the　door；　gun　in　hand。　　He　ran　a　few　short　steps　after　the　flying　boy；　and　was　about　to　throw　his　gun　to　his　shoulder　when　a　voice　arrested　him。
  〃Here；　Mackenzie；　what　are　you　doing　with　that　gun？〃
  It　was　French；　standing　between　the　stable　and　the　house；　dishevelled；　bloated；　but　master　of　himself。　　Mackenzie　stopped　as　if　gripped　by　an　unseen　arm。
  〃What　are　you　doing　with　that　gun？〃　repeated　French　sternly。　〃Bring　it　to　me。〃
  Mackenzie　stood　in　sullen；　defiant　silence；　his　gun　thrown　into　the　hollow　of　his　arm。　　French　walked　deliberately　toward　him。
  〃Give　me　that　gun；　you　dog！〃　he　said　with　an　oath；　〃or　I'll　kill　you　where　you　stand。〃
  Mackenzie　hesitated　but　only　for　a　moment；　and　without　a　word　surrendered　the　gun；　the　fiendish　rage　fading　out　of　his　face；　the　aboriginal　blood　lust　dying　in　his　eyes　like　the　snuffing　out　of　a　candle。　　In　a　few　brief　moments　he　became　once　more　a　civilized　man；　subject　to　the　restraint　of　a　thousand　years　of　life　ordered　by　law。
  〃Kalman；　come　here；〃　French　called　to　the　boy；　who　stood　far　off。
  〃Mackenzie；〃　said　French　with　great　dignity　as　Kalman　drew　near；　〃I　want　you　to　know　that　this　boy　is　a　ward　of　a　dear　friend；　and　is　to　me　like　my　own　son。　　Remember　that。　　Kalman；　Mackenzie　is　my　friend；　and　you　are　to　treat　him　as　such。　　Where　did　you　get　that？〃　he　continued；　pointing　to　the　bottle　which　Kalman　had　kept　clutched　in　his　hand　through　all　the　exciting　pursuit。
  The　boy　stood　silent；　looking　at　Mackenzie。
  〃Speak；　boy；〃　said　French　sharply。
  Kalman　remained　still　silent；　his　eyes　on　Mackenzie。
  〃It　iss　a　bottle　myself　had；〃　said　Mackenzie。
  〃Ah；　I　understand。　　All　right；　Kalman；　it's　none　of　your　business　what　Mackenzie　drinks。　　Now；　Mackenzie；　get　dinner；　and　no　more　of　this　nonsense。〃
  Without　a　word　of　parley　or　remonstrance　Mackenzie　shuffled　off　toward　the　field　to　bring　in　the　team。　　French　turned　to　the　boy　and；　taking　the　bottle　in　his　hand；　said；　〃This　is　dangerous　stuff；　my　boy。　　A　man　like　Mackenzie　is　not　to　be　trusted　with　it；　and　of　course　it　is　not　for　boys。〃
  Kalman　made　no　reply。　　His　mind　was　in　a　whirl　of　perplexed　remembrances　of　the　sickening　scenes　of　the　past　three　days。
  〃Go　now；〃　said　French；　〃and　help　Mackenzie。　　He　won't　hurt　you　any　more。　　He　never　keeps　a　grudge。　　That　is　the　Christian　in　him。〃
  During　the　early　part　of　the　afternoon　Mackenzie　drove　the　harrows　while　French　moved　about　the　ranch　doing　up　odds　and　ends。　　But　neither　of　the　men　was　quite　at　ease。　　At　length　French　disappeared　into　the　house；　and　almost　immediately　afterwards　Mackenzie　left　his　team　in　Kalman's　hands　and　followed　his　boss。　　Hour　after　hour　passed。　　The　sun　sank　in　the　western　sky；　but　neither　master　nor　man　appeared；　while　Kalman　kept　the　team　steadily　on　the　move；　till　at　length　the　field　was　finished。　　Weary　and　filled　with　foreboding；　the　boy　drove　the　horses　to　the　stable；　pulled　off　the　harness　as　best　he　could；　gave　the　horses　food　and　drink　and　went　into　the　house。　　There　a　ghastly　scene　met　his　eye。　　On　the　floor　hard　by　the　table　lay　Mackenzie　on　his　face；　snoring　heavily　in　a　drunken　sleep；　and　at　the　table；　with　three　empty　bottles　beside　him　and　a　fourth　in　his　hand；　sat　French；　staring　hard　before　him　with　eyes　bloodshot　and　sunken；　and　face　of　a　livid　hue。　　He　neither　moved　nor　spoke　when　Kalman　entered；　but　continued　staring　steadily　before　him。
  The　boy　was　faint　with　hunger。　　He　was　too　heartsick　to　attempt　to　prepare　food。　　He　found　a　piece　of　bannock　and；　washing　this　down　with　a　mug　of　water；　he　crept　into　his　bunk；　and　there；　utterly　miserable；　waited　till　his　master　should　sink　into　sleep。　　Slowly　the　light　faded　from　the　room　and　the　shadows　crept　longer　and　deeper　over　the　floor　till　all　was　dark。　　But　still　the　boy　could　see　the　outline　of　the　silent　man；　who　sat　without　sound　or　motion　except　for　the　filling　and　emptying　of　his　glass　from　time　to　time。　At　length　the　shadowy　figure　bowed　slowly　toward　the　table　and　there　remained。
  Sick　with　grief　and　fear；　the　boy　sprang　from　his　bunk　and　sought　to　rouse　the　man　from　his　stupor；　but　without　avail；　till　at　last；　wearied　with　his　ineffectual　attempts　and　sobbing　in　the　bitterness　of　his　grief；　he　threw　a　blanket　over　the　bowed　form　and　retreated　to　his　bunk　again。　　But　sleep　to　him　was　impossible；　for　often　throughout　the　night　he　was　brought　to　his　feet　with　horrid　dreams；　to　be　driven　shivering　again　to　his　bunk　with　the　more　horrid　realities　of　his　surroundings。
  At　length　as　day　began　to　dawn　he　fell　into　a　dead；　dreamless　slumber；　waking；　when　it　was　broad　day；　to　find　Mackenzie　sitting　at　the　table　eating　breakfast；　and　with　a　bottle　beside　him。　French　was　not　to　be　seen；　but　Kalman　could　hear　his　heavy　breathing　from　the　inner　room。　　To　Kalman　it　seemed　as　if　he　were　still　in　the　grip　of　some　ghastly　nightmare。　　He　rubbed　his　eyes　and　looked　again　at　Mackenzie　in　stupid　amazement。
  〃What　are　you　glowering　at　yonder；　Callum；　man？〃　said　Mackenzie；　pleasantly　ignoring　the　events　of　the　previous　day。　　〃Your　breakfast　iss　ready　for　you。　　You　will　be　hungry　after　your　day's　work。　　Oh；　yes；　I　haf　been　seeing　it；　and　it　iss　well　done；　Callum；　mannie。〃
  Somehow　his　smiling　face　and　his　kindly　tone　filled　Kalman　with　rage。　　He　sprang　out　of　his　bunk　and　ran　out　of　the　house。　　He　hated　the　sight　of　the　smiling；　pleasant…voiced