Sophy made her way back to the store, meeting Mrs. Kilrea on her way. To this lady she confided that a young woman had gone up to Hugo Ennis' shack and had not returned. Wasn't it queer? And Mrs. Olsen had said that she wasn't Hugo's wife or sister. Wasn't it funny? But of course she supposed it was all right. Mrs. Kilrea called on old Mrs. Follansbee, who told Mrs. McIntosh. This lady was a Cree Indian that had become more or less civilized. The white women would speak to her on account of her husband Aleck, who was really a very nice man. At any rate all the ladies of Carcajou were soon aware of the unusual happening, scenting strange news and perhaps even a bit of scandal. Big Stefan, having urged his team to their utmost, now fed them carefully and locked them up in his shed, a local habit providing against bloody fights that were objected to not so much on moral principle as because these contests often resulted in the disabling of valuable animals. It also prevented incursions among the few sheep of the neighborhood or long hunts in which dogs indulged by themselves, returning with sore feet and utterly unable to move for a day or two. The animals, before falling asleep, were biting off the crackling icicles that had formed in the hair growing between their padded toes. The journey had not exhausted them in the slightest and on the morrow they would be perfectly fit for further travel, if need be. Neither was Stefan weary. After supper he quietly strolled over to the store where some of Carcajou's choicest spirits were gathered, since the village boasted no saloon. Here the news was discussed, as spread out by the few who got a daily or weekly paper from Ottawa or Sudbury, or gathered in the immediate neighborhood by the local gossips. "Hello, Stefan!" exclaimed Miles Parker, who was supposed to watch over the sawmill and see that the machinery didn't suffer too much during the long period of disuse. "How did ye find the travelin' to-day? See ye didn't manage ter freeze them whiskers off'n yer face, did ye?" "Dey're yoost vhere dey belongs, I tank," answered Stefan, quietly. "Miss Sophy, if you haf time I take two plugs Lumberman's Joy terbacker." "Stefan he's so all-fired big he got to keep a chew on each side of his face," explained Pat Kilrea, a first-rate mechanic who was then busy with the construction of a little steamer that was to help tow down to the mill some big booms of logs, as soon as the lake opened. "He ain't able to get no satisfaction except from double action."