“No, sir, I wasn’t aware of it.”
“Well, then, I now tell you that they have,” said Redding, who, unfortunately for himself and others, possessed an easily-roused spirit and was apt to become irascible when the rights—real or supposed—of the Company which he represented appeared in danger of violation. “At least,” he continued, in a less positive tone, “I have reason to believe that such is the case, and I am now on my way to—”
He paused abruptly, feeling the impropriety of revealing his plans to one who, although a quiet and sensible man, and not given to talk too much, was, nevertheless, by his own admission, an aider and abettor of the enemy.
“Whereabouts is the boundary line?” asked Bellew, after a short silence.
“At Jenkins Creek—that creek is the boundary,” answered the fur-trader. “On which side of the creek have they begun to build the mill?”
“They haven’t begun yet, sir, but I believe they intend to commence on the south side.”
“So far well,” replied Redding, “but if I find that they have raised a stone or planted a stake on the north side of the creek, I’ll—”
Here feeling that he was about to give way to a boastful spirit, he got himself out of the difficulty of having to finish the sentence by making a sudden and somewhat stern demand for “more bear-steak.”
“Vid pleasieur, Monsieur,” said Le Rue, placing a huge slice on his master’s plate.
“Well, sir, I hope you’ll find that they haven’t overstepped the boundary,” said Bellew, “because the McLeods look as if they’d be troublesome customers to deal with.”