Mary-Lou had crept out of the store again. “They kill Jimmy Moosenose,” she said, nodding in the direction of the Slavis. “And break into the store.”
“I put them out again,” said Loseis, quickly and proudly.
“Oh, God! what awful things have been happening here!” cried Conacher aghast.
His sympathy caused Loseis to tremble dangerously again. “Oh, it will be all right now,” she said swiftly. “One white man is enough to put fear into the heart of these dogs.”
Conacher looked at that brave and piteous figure, and was caught up in a very hurricane of the emotions. He was mad to enfold her in his arms; to comfort the child, to love the woman, but a feeling of chivalry restrained him. It appeared unseemly to intrude his love in the moment of her grief; he turned away abruptly, searching distractedly in his mind for some expedient to tide him over the dangerous moment.
“I must go fetch my fellows before they are contaminated by the Slavis,” he said in a strangled voice, and strode away down the slope again.
“Ah, he does not love me,” murmured Loseis with extreme sadness.
“You are wrong,” said Mary-Lou. “It was speaking in his eyes.”
“No! No! No!” said Loseis violently. Nevertheless she was secretly comforted.
She went bustling into the store. “Come! we will close up the store now, and go to our own house. Conacher will be hungry. We must cook a big meal. There is still some canned apples and canned butter in the store. Ahchoogah brought in a moose to-day. I will take a haunch of it for Conacher. I will take the biggest fish for Conacher, too. Be quick! Be quick! I will go down and get the other Marys to help you. . . .”