Joe looked at the Frenchman, intending to resent his sharp orders, but thought better of it. The small, square-built, wide-shouldered man was not one to be trifled with. He was known as a calm, cool sort of a chap with little sense of humor, and the youth reflected that, in this neck of the woods, it was best not to trifle with men who were apt to end a quarrel by fighting over an acre of ground and mauling one another until one or both parties were utterly unrecognizable, even to their best friends. "Come back in about an hour and I expect I'll have an answer," he told the Frenchman, quite meekly. The latter went into McGurn's store and purchased some tobacco and a few needed groceries. Suddenly he bethought himself of Stefan. "_Mon Dieu!_" he exclaimed. "Heem ought know right avay, sure." He drove his team around to Stefan's smithy but failed to find him. At the house Mrs. Olsen told him that her husband had gone out a half an hour ago. He would probably be at Olaf Jonson's, at the other end of the village. Thither drove Philippe and found his man. "'Ello, Stefan, want for see you right avay," said the trapper. "Come 'long!" The Swede hastened to him. "Vat it iss, Philippe?" he asked, eyeing the dogs expertly. "Py de looks off tem togs I tink you ban in some hurry, no?" "Uh huh! I come to telegraph for de _docteur_. Hugo heem 'urted h'awful bad. Look lak' heem die, mebbe." Stefan bellowed out an oath and began running towards his house at a tremendous gait. Papineau jumped on his toboggan and followed, only catching up after they had gone a couple of hundred yards. When they reached Olsen's, the latter went in, shouted out the news and came out again. With the help of Papineau he hitched up his own great team of five. "Tank you for lettin' me know, Papineau," he said. "I get ofer dere so tam qvick you don't belief, I tank. So long!" "'Old 'ard! 'Old 'ard!" shouted the Frenchman. "Vat for you tink Pat Kilrea an' McIntosh, an' Prouty an' Kerrigan and more, an' also vomans is goin' up dere to de Falls? Dey say go visitin'. Dey don't nevaire go make visits before dat vay. An' dey h'ask me all 'bout de _demoiselle_, de gal vat is up dere, an' I see Mis' Kilrea an' Kerrigan's voman look one de oder in de face. Look mean lak' de devil, dem vomans! I dunno, but I tink dey up to no good, dem crowd. If I no have to stay for _docteur_ I go right back qvick. D'ye tink dey vant ter bodder Hugo, or de lady, Stefan?" The latter swore again. "If dey bodder 'em I tvists all dere necks like chickens, I tank," he cried, excitedly. "How long ago did they leave?" "Vell, most a h'our, now, I tink, and dem's Kerrigan's horses, as is five year olds an' stronk lak' de devil. Dey run good on de five-mile flat, dey do, sure, an' odder places vhere snow is pack nice."