The trading fever rapidly spread to the squaws. Those who were not bringing furs for exchange and carrying provisions back to the camp offered moccasins and baskets for sale. Mackenzie shook his head--he had no use for anything but the skins. Under cover of the excitement, much petty thieving was going on, and it was necessary to keep close watch of the peltries, lest they be exchanged again. The squaws kept keen eyes on the counters, making off with anything desirable which was left unguarded. Chandonnais took a place at the door, finally, to call a halt upon illegal enterprises. Without the least knowledge of why he did it, Robert bought a pair of moccasins. They were small, even for a woman's foot, and heavy with beads. The dainty things appealed to him, suddenly and irresistibly, and the price he paid for them brought other squaws, with countless moccasins. "Uncle John," he shouted above the clamour, "please tell them I don't want any more moccasins!" A few rapid words from Shaw-ne-aw-kee had the desired effect. "Don't see what you want of those things," he observed; "they won't fit anybody." "Pretty things," remarked Howard, sauntering up. "Whom are they for?" "I--I--that is, I don't know," stammered Robert. "I just wanted them." The Lieutenant laughed. "Oh, I see," he said. "Another case of Cinderella's slipper?" "Yes, we'll let it go at that," returned Forsyth. He had regained his self-possession, but the colour still bronzed his cheeks. When every possible exchange had been made, and every Indian had been given a small additional present, the room became quiet again. Black Partridge received a small silver ornament which Mackenzie had made for him during the long winter evenings, with manifestations of delight and gratitude. "What's he saying, Uncle?" asked Robert. "He's swearing eternal friendship for me and mine." "Much good that does," said Howard, nonchalantly. "I'd trust a dead Indian a damn sight sooner 'n a live one." Black Partridge may have caught the gist of what had been said, but he repeated his expressions of gratitude and his assurances of continued esteem. The room, by contrast, was very silent after he went out. "Lord!" sighed the trader. "What a day!" Mrs. Mackenzie's voice sounded clearly in the next room. "Yes, dear," she said, "I'll tell him, and I'll explain it all. Don't you fret one mite about it." Then the door opened and Mrs. Howard came in. She talked with Forsyth for a few minutes, then turned to her husband. "Shall we go home?" she asked, "or do you want to stay here for supper?" "Better stay," suggested Mackenzie, hospitably. "No, we'll go," said Ralph. "Good-bye, everybody." Neither spoke until they entered their own house again, then Katherine put her hands on his shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. "Ralph," she said, seriously, "can't you trust me?" "I hope so," he returned, drawing away from her, "and as I've fixed it now, I think I can." "Ralph!" she cried, "you hurt me!"