"A gift!" cried the little Francette, her childish voice full of a
concealed delight; "a gift from the forest; and where do such trinkets
come from save the lower branch of the Saskatchewan! It savours of our
pretty man of the long gold curls! Mon Dieu! The cavalier has made good
time!"
Whereat there was a stirring at the gate, and the peeping fringe drew
back while the factor turned on his heel and strode away toward the
factory, leaving the tall girl alone at the portal, holding her gift.
There was a devilish light in the dancing eyes of Francette as she
flirted away.
But Maren Le Moyne walked slowly back to the cabin, wondering.
CHAPTER X THE SASKATOON
It was at dusk of that same day that McElroy, as near sullen anger as
one of his temperament could be, sat alone on the log step of the
factory, his pipe unlighted in his lips and his moody eyes on the
beaten ground worn hard by the passing feet of moccasined Indians from
the four winds.
Edmonton Ridgar, with that keenness which gave him such tact, had shut
himself in the living-room, and the two clerks were off among the maids
at the cabins.
Once again McElroy had made himself ridiculous by that abrupt turning
away because of a small red flower sent a maid by a man he now knew to
be his foe and rival in all things of a man's life.
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