"Bon soir, my friends! I see you have had luck at de lines," he surprised them with. "I have three nice fat beaver for you."
The hollow eyes of Joe and Antoine met in a questioning look. Then Piquet brazened it out.
"Beaver, eh? Dat soun' good, fat beaver!" and he smacked his thin lips greedily.
"W'ere you get beaver, Jean?" asked Antoine, now that the tension due to Jean's appearance had relaxed.
"W'ere I tell you I would fin' dem, nord, een de valley of de spirits," he laughed.
Marcel heaped a tin dish from the kettle, and slipping outside, fed Fleur.
"Here, Fleur!" he called, "ees some of feesh dat Joe has boiled for you. Wat, you lak' eet bettair raw? Well, Joe he lak' eet boiled."
Returning, Jean ate heartily of the lake trout. When he had finished and lighted his pipe, he said: "You weel fin' de beaver on de cache. I leeve een de morning for Salmon riviere country."
"W'at, you goin' leave us, Jean?" cried Antoine visibly disturbed.
"Oui, I don't trap wid t'ief!" The cold eyes of Marcel bored into those of Beaulieu which wavered and fell. But Piquet accepted the challenge.