The Fur Bringers

Fur Bringers, The

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Title: The Fur Bringers A Story of the Canadian Northwest
Author: Hulbert Footner
Release Date: July 13, 2005 [EBook #16289]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FUR
BRINGERS ***

Produced by Al Haines

THE FUR BRINGERS
A STORY OF THE CANADIAN NORTHWEST

by
HULBERT FOOTNER

Author of "Jack Chanty," "Thieves Wit," "A Substitute Millionaire,"
etc.

NEW YORK
THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY
1920

Copyright, 1920, by
THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY
All Rights Reserved

Printed in the U.S.A.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I
JUNE FEVER II FORT ENTERPRISE III COLINA IV THE
MEETING V AN INVITATION TO DINE VI THE DINNER VII
TWO INTERVIEWS VIII IN AMBROSE'S CAMP IX LOVERS X
ANOTHER VISITOR XI ALEXANDER SELKIRK AND FAMILY
XII GATHERING SHADOWS XIII THE QUARREL XIV SIMON
GRAMPIERRE XV THE PLAN OF CAMPAIGN XVI COLINA
COMMANDS XVII THE STAFF OF LIFE XVIII A BLOODLESS
CAPTURE XIX WOMAN'S WEAPONS XX UNDERCURRENTS
XXI THE SUBTLETY OF GORDON STRANGE XXII THE "TEA
DANCE" XXIII FIRE AND RAPINE XXIV COLINA RELENTS

XXV ACCUSED XXVI CONVICTED XXVII A CHANGE OF
JAILERS XXVIII A GLEAM OF HOPE XXIX NESIS XXX FREE
XXXI THE ALARM XXXII THE TRAP XXXIII THE TEST XXXIV
ANOTHER CHANGE OF JAILERS XXXV THE JAIL VISITOR
XXXVI COLINA'S ENTERPRISE XXXVII MARTA XXXVIII THE
FINDING OF NESIS XXXIX THE TRIAL XL AM UNEXPECTED
WITNESS XLI FROM DUMB LIPS XLII THE AVENGING OF
NESIS XLIII NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS

THE FUR BRINGERS
CHAPTER I.
JUNE FEVER.
The firm of Minot & Doane sat on the doorsill of its store on Lake
Miwasa smoking its after-supper pipes.
It was seven o'clock of a brilliant day in June. The westering sun shone
comfortably on the world, and a soft breeze kept the mosquitoes at bay.
Moreover, the tobacco was of the best the store afforded; yet there was
no peace between the two. They bickered like schoolboys kept indoors.
"How many link-skins in the bale you made up today?" asked Peter
Minot.
"Three-seventy-two," his young partner answered in a surly tone that
was in itself a provocation.
"I made it three-seventy-three," said Peter curtly.
"What's the difference?" demanded Ambrose Doane.
"Seven dollars," said Peter dryly.
"Well, you can claim the extra one, can't you," snarled Ambrose, "and

make an allowance if it's found short?"
"That's not the way I like to do business!"
"Too bad about you!"
The older man frowned darkly, clamped his teeth upon his pipe, and
held his tongue.
His silence was an additional aggravation to the other. "What do you
want me to do," he burst out with an amount of passion absurdly
disproportionate to the matter at issue, "cut it open and count it over
and bale it up again?"
"To blazes with it!" said Peter. "I want you to keep your temper!"
"I'm sick of this!" cried Ambrose with the wilful abandon of one
hopelessly in the wrong. "You're at me from morning till night!
Nothing I do is right. Why can't you leave me alone?"
Peter took his pipe out of his mouth and looked at his young partner in
astonishment. His face turned a dull brick color and his blue eyes
snapped.
He spoke in a voice of portentous softness: "Who the hell do you think
you are? A little gorramighty? To make a mistake is natural; to fly into
a temper when it is discovered is childish. What's the matter with you
these past ten days, anyway? A man can't look at you but you begin to
bark and froth. You'd best go off by yourself a while and eat grass to
cool your blood!"
Having delivered himself, Peter pulled deeply at his pipe and gazed
across the lake with a scowl of honest resentment.
It was a long speech to come from Peter, and it went unexpectedly to
the point. Ambrose was silenced. For a long time neither spoke.
Little by little the angry red faded out of Peter's cheeks and neck, and
his forehead smoothed itself. Stealing a glance at young Ambrose, the

blue eyes began to twinkle.
"Say!" he said suddenly.
Ambrose twisted petulantly and muttered in his throat.
"Stick out your tongue!" commanded Peter.
Ambrose stared at him in angry stupefaction. "What the deuce--"
"No," said Peter, "you're not sick. Your eyeballs is as clean as new milk;
your skin is as pink as a spanked baby. No, you're not sick, so to
speak!"
There was another silence,