"My dear," said Douglas to his Indian wife, "I've given my New Testament to Storm of the East Kutenais."
The woman wondered at him.
"After all," Douglas explained, "what could I do? We've got the big Bible with us and I'm sure my mother would have given him that little Testament, as of course I did. You'll laugh at what I say, but if you'd seen him there, a sort of spirit, all dusty sunshine, his eyes dreaming, seeing things unearthly, as he looked across the blaze of light on the water! My dear! why, his face was inspired."
"Hush! Some one at the door," said Mrs. Douglas, who was undressing to go to bed. "Who can it be, so late?"
The factor opened the door, and Mrs. Douglas hid herself behind it. Storm stood there, deathly-pale, shaking all over, holding on to the lintel overhead.
"I want you," he said huskily. "My wife's in danger. I got to go at once."
"You've had a message?"
"Yes. From her mother, Thunder Feather. I'm starting now with the three best canoe men. But I can't leave my Injuns in the lurch about them guns. You got to do the trading for me, with this Fort Colville man?"
"I?" asked the factor.
"You. I trust you. You're straight."