"Well, he's making a mighty lot out of that, and the hard part is so many of the boys believe him."
"Joe," said Keith, "it's cold here," and he shivered. "Let us take some of these magazines in our arms and go back to the Indian school room. It's warm there, and I want to tell you something."
"Now, sit down," he said, when they had reached the place, "and listen to what I have to say, that you may know the truth.
"When I came here ten years ago the Indians were in a wretched condition of semi-starvation. They sold their skins to a fur-trading company, which sent a boat up stream for the very purpose. For valuable furs they received cheap, gaudy dress material, useless toys, and many other things they didn't need. They were being robbed right along. After a while I induced them to give up this ruinous barter, and deal with a more honest company, which agreed to send up a small steamer twice a year, in the Spring and Fall. Now the Indians have their own store, and keep those goods you saw on hand. I have never made a cent out of the business, for the natives get everything. Once a year they appoint one of their number to keep the store, and the lot has fallen time and again to Amos, who is paid by the Indians for his work.
"When a native brings in, say, a fox skin, he receives its value according to the previous year's rate. If he needs tea and sugar he is charged the same amount as was paid to the company—-not a cent more. When that fox skin is sold, if it brings more the Indian is credited with the amount, but, if less, it is deducted. We have a simple yet splendid system of accounts, which has taken years to perfect. At the end of the year every Indian is given a statement of how he stands, and so far there has been very little complaining.
"When an Indian does not wish to take up the full value of his furs in goods at one time, he is given a number of large beads, their standard of wealth, which he keeps on a stout string. Some of the natives have saved up quite an amount in this way, and in times of sickness, or during a bad hunting season, are not dependent on others.
"Then each Indian gives a portion of what he earns for the relief of the needy, sick, and the aged, besides contributing something every year to our Missionary Society. They are delighted with the whole plan, and, while I oversee the business, I get nothing. Any one who cares to do so may examine our system, and learn how straight it is. I know very well that Perdue longs to get control of this trade, and in fact did induce a number to buy from him. But that has been all stopped since my return, and so he is very spiteful. You may tell any one you like the whole truth, and how the Indians have been helped by the system."
"I shall," replied Joe, and the look upon his face revealed his sincerity.
"As to the next," continued Keith, "I shall be brief. No greater lie has ever been fabricated against a human being than that. Pritchen himself is the guilty one, and tries to shuffle the blame on me. Years ago he was a squaw-man, among a tribe away to the North of us. I visited that band, and one day on a lonely trail found that brute who had fatally injured his Indian wife, and her babe at the breast. Before she died, however, she left that scar upon him with the point of a keen knife. The woman told me all just before her death, and gave in my charge her only living child, a bright-eyed girl, who is now at Klassan, and remembers it all."
"What! the girl here?" asked Joe in surprise.