"Ain't you little bit scare of Joe?" he asked curiously.
Sam smiled wryly. "Sure!" he confessed. "I'm a whole lot scared of him. Hasn't he got thirty pounds on me, weight and reach beside. It's because I'm so scared that I can't take anything from him. Do you understand that?"
"I on'er stan'," the old Indian said pithily. "Walter Forest tell me lak that long tam ago. You brave lak him, I t'ink."
Sam shook his head. "'Tisn't a case of bravery, but of plumb necessity!"
From the window of the French outfit store Sam was seen driving down to Grier's Point.
"Scared off!" cried Joe with a great laugh. "Lucky for him, too!"
An hour later Bela was feeding the largest number of men that had ever gathered in her shack. Except the policeman on duty, and Gilbert Beattie, every white man in the district had been drawn by the word passed from mouth to mouth that there was "going to be something doing to-night."
Even Musq'oosis, who had never before ventured among the white men without a particular invitation, came in. He did not eat at the table, but sat on the floor in the corner, watching and listening with bright eyes, like some queer, philosophic little ape.
As time passed, and Sam did not turn up, the company was frankly disappointed. They abused him thoughtlessly, forgetting in their chagrin at losing a sensation, that Sam might have declined a contest so unequal with entire honour. Bela kept her eyes down to hide their angry glitter at the men's comments.