The air of the trade-room was heavy with suspense.
"You swear to these marks?"
"Yes, M'sieu."
"François Maskigan!" The treaty-chief of the South Branch Crees, a man of middle age, with great authority among the Indians, stepped forward.
"François, you have heard what Marcel says of the marks on these skins?"
The chief nodded, "Enh, yes."
"Look at them and see if he speaks rightly."
It took the Indian but a few minutes to check the distinguishing marks on the pelts and examine the large pile which Marcel had said possessed none.
"Are the marks on these pelts as Marcel says?"
"Yes, they are there, these marks as he says."