Dick recognised this reference to Robison whom a severe attack of pneumonia had so far salvaged from the gallows. He slid out of the saddle, and shook hands with the breed cheerfully.
"Aha," he said. "Him gone sick. But by-an'-bye him get well again. Then they punish him down in Fort Saskatchewan, Beaver Tail."
He was looking on the other men as he spoke, and across the face of him who sliced the moose-hide he saw fear flicker and darken. An almost imperceptible motion of his hand brought Tempest to the ground also, and then Dick went on with his salutations.
Many of the men were known to him, and he shook hands with each, asking the names of those he did not know. The breeds were laughing, entering into the game with the joyousness of children, and at the cooking-fires where the smell of meat was thick and warm, women halted in their labours, watching the two clean-run white men in their close uniforms with admiring curiosity.
Dick stopped before the man whose hands were red and greasy with the hide.
"I guess I'm the friend of all here," he said, and held his hand out. "But I don't know your name, my friend."
Someone piped it out. And then Job Kesikaw, thrusting out his paw reluctantly, felt himself seized in a sudden trap-like grip, and heard the new note in Dick's voice.
"I want you, Job Kesikaw," he said, and Job sprang back, jerking free with the full weight of his body.
Dick's grasp was strong, but the greasy hand slid from it. Job turned and dived into the darkness, whipping up his rifle as he fled. And into the dark, close on his heels, leapt Dick and Tempest.
"Wah! Wah!" said Beaver Tail, astonished and interested. The men around him grunted; looked at each other doubtfully for a little space, and then fell to their work again.
Principally they were amazed at the audacity of Job in defying the Big Law. Partly they were amused and contemptuous; and partly, in virtuous knowledge of their own presumably clean sheets, they arraigned him mercilessly in
