"I'm thinkin' th' money'll be found t' send she—I'm knowin' 'twill," Douglas prophesied convincingly. "Ed were sayin' Bob had a rare lot o' fur that he'd caught before th'—before th' New Year—a fine lot o' martens an' th' silver foxes. Them'll pay Bob's debt an' pay for th' maid's goin' too. That's what Bob were wantin'."
"Did Ed say now as Bob were gettin' all that fur?" she asked. "I were feelin' so sore bad over Bob's goin' I were never hearin' un—I were not thinkin' about th' lad's fur—I were thinkin' o' he."
"Aye, Ed were sayin' that. Emily must be ready t' go on th' cruise t' meet th' first trip o' th' mail boat. Th' maid must be leavin' here by th' last o' June," planned Douglas.
"But we'll not be havin' th' money then—not till th' men comes out, an' then we has t' sell th' fur first t' get th' money," Mrs. Gray explained. "Then—then I hopes th' maid may go. 'Tis what Bob were goin' t' th' bush for—an' takin' all th' risks for—my poor lad—he were countin' on un so——"
"We'll not be waitin'. We'll not be waitin'. I has th' money now an' th' maid must be goin' th' first trip o' th' mail boat," said Douglas, in an authoritative manner.
"Oh, Douglas, you be wonderful good—so wonderful good." And Mrs. Gray began to cry.
"Now! Now!" exclaimed the soft-hearted old trapper, "'Tis nothin' t' be cryin' about. What un cryin' for, now?"
"I'm—not—knowin'—only you be so good—an' I were wantin' so bad t' have Emily go—I were wantin' so wonderful bad—an' 'twill save she—'twill save she!"
"'Tis no kindness. 'Tis no kindness. 'Tis Bob's fur pays for un—no kindness o' mine," he insisted.
Emily took Douglas' hand and drew him to her until she could reach his face. Then with a palm on each cheek she kissed his lips, and with her arms about his neck buried her face for a moment in his white beard.