"Papineau he tells me in Carcajou it look like you come ofer here to make drouble for Hugo an' mebbe for dis young leddy. So I come here fast like my togs can take me, sure ting. Und I vant to know vhen you vants to start droubles. Der leddies can move leetle vay to one side if dey like, to make room. Ve need plenty, I tank. Who vant to start de row now, who begin? I tak' you vun at a time or altogedder, how you like!" He took a step forward and the men all moved back hurriedly. The ladies had swiftly accepted his advice and were retreating fast, now and then looking back in terror. "But look here, Stefan, what are you butting in for?" Kilrea took courage to ask while he kept discreetly out of reach. "We came to see if everything was all right and proper here. We're satisfied now and are going back. Got to hurry away, sun's getting low." The Swede sniffed at him contemptuously, and drew off a big mitt of muskrat hide. With some difficulty he drew from his clothing a huge silver watch and looked at it. "Glad you vas in a hurry. I tank I 'elp you a bit make tings lifely. I gif you all yoost tree minutes ter get started. Den if any man he ain't aboard dat sleigh I yoost vipes up de ground vit him a bit. If you knows vhat is good for ye, den make tracks, qvick. I ban gettin' hurry mineself, eh!" "But what right have you to be ordering us about?" shouted Aleck Mclntosh, imprudently. "My frient, you's knowed as de laziest man in Carcajou and some say in Ontario. I helps you along, sure." He had dashed towards him with devastating speed. The fellow turned to run, but a second later the slack of some of his garments was in Stefan's huge hand. Struggling and backing he found himself half lifted, half propelled on the ground, all the way to the sled. There he was lifted high and dumped in, like a bag of feed. "Any oders as need help?" roared Stefan. But they were hastening for all they were worth. Kilrea took the reins. The three women were already seated. The others jumped in and the horses started home again, even before the Carcajou Vigilantes had finished spreading robes over their shaky knees. Striking a bit of flat bare rock, the runners spat out fire and squealed, after which the heavy sled slithered and slipped over the crackling snow, so that presently the outfit disappeared around the first bend in the tote-road. Miss Sophy McGurn looked particularly down-hearted. None of the interesting events she expected had taken place. She had merely succeeded in nearly giving herself away and arousing suspicions.