Toppy saw that the card was a receipt for the blankets. As he signed, he looked closely at the squaw. He was surprised to see that she was a young woman, and that her features and expression distinguished her from the other squaws he had seen by the intelligence they indicated. Tilly was no mere clod in a red skin. Somewhere back of her inscrutable Indian eyes was a keen, strong mind. “How did you know what I wanted?” Toppy asked as he packed the blankets under his arm. The squaw made no sign that she had heard. Picking up the card, she looked carefully at his signature and turned to hang the card on a hook. “So you were listening when Reivers was talking to me, were you?” said Toppy. “Did you listen after he went out?” “Mebbe,” grunted Tilly. “Mebbe so; mebbe no.” And with this she turned and waddled back into the living-quarters in the rear of the store. Toppy looked after her dumbfounded. “Huh!” he said to himself. “I’ll bet two to one that Reivers knows all about what we said before morning. I suppose that will mean something doing pretty quick. Well, the quicker the better.” CHAPTER VII—THE SNOW-BURNER’S CREED When Toppy returned to the room in the rear of the blacksmith-shop he found Campbell waiting impatiently. “Eh, lad, but you’re the slow one!” greeted the gruff old Scot as Toppy entered. “You’re set a record in this camp; no man yet has been able to consume so much time getting a pair of blankets from the wannigan. Dump ’em in yon bunk in the corner and set the table. I’ll have supper in a wink and a half.” Toppy obediently tossed his blankets into the bunk indicated and turned to help to the best of his ability. The place now was lighted generously by two large reflector-lamps hung on the walls, and Toppy had his first good view of the room that was to be his home.