as merrily as though they had never known hunger and cold and buffeting from post to pillar. They were the prettiest Indian children he had ever seen, with even features and magnificent black eyes. They were Annie, Lizzie and Susy, aged nine, seven, and five.
The man had gone into the added room and thrown himself on the bare bed there with a groan. Derek looked in at him and then asked the son what was the trouble with him. He mentioned a disease common enough, but of which Derek knew little. "Is it serious?" he asked.
"Oh, I guess not," replied the youth. "He's just got to keep still and he'll git all right."
Derek looked pityingly at the hunched figure on the bed. "Let me know if he needs anything. And cover him up or he'll freeze."
He was getting cold himself standing about and Buckskin was sneezing in his ear. He returned to the house, taking the son with him to get provisions for the family. The youth said his name was Bill Rain. He was a hollow-cheeked, hollow-chested fellow, who always gave the impression that he had just reached the top of a steep hill. But he said he was strong and seemed eager to work.
Derek felt an immense relief at having acquired the Rain family. He would pay off Peek that night, and Peek could stop at the Orde's cottage on his way back to Mistwell and tell Mrs. Orde that she would not be needed at Grimstone for some time. He hoped that by ridding himself of Mistwell people he might be able to conceal the fact that Fawnie had deserted him. For the present, at least, that was his great need. The Jerrolds, Hobbs, the Vicar, it must be hidden from them all. He had been the subject of gossip, conjecture, pity, scorn, long enough. No. It must not be known. He might conceal it for a month—or more. Fur-
