To accept John Gaviller's contemptuous offer would not only be to confess a humiliating failure, it would mean pocketing a loss that would cripple the young firm for the time being.

Peter would say: "Lose it if you must, but lose it fighting." This thought was like an inspiration to Ambrose. His jaw stiffened, and a measure of serenity returned to his eyes. He pa.s.sed the note to Simon.

"Read it," he said coolly, "and save it. It may be useful as evidence, later."

A subtle change pa.s.sed over Gordon Strange's face. For the moment he was pure Indian. Quickly veiling his eyes, he asked with an innocent air: "What does Mr. Gaviller say?"

This was too much for Ambrose to stomach. "You know d.a.m.ned well what he says!" he answered scornfully.

Strange swallowed it. "Is there any answer?" he asked.

"No!" said Ambrose.

The half-breed's curiosity overcame his prudence. "What are you going to do?" he asked slyly.

Ambrose strode out of the store without answering.

The two men paddled back to Grampierre's place in silence. Simon with native tact, forbore to ask questions. Such is the potency of the white man's eye that the leader of the breeds had unhesitatingly yielded the direction of affairs to the youth who was little more than a third of his age.

Upon landing, Ambrose pointed to the lookout bench. "Let us sit there and talk," he said.

"Simon," he said immediately, "suppose it came to a fight, how many men do you think Gaviller could count on?"

The old man took the question as a matter of course. "There is the policeman, the doctor and the parson," he said. "The parson is best for praying. There is the engineer and the captain of the steamboat; there is young Duncan Greer.

"In summer he is purser on the steamboat; in winter he is the miller.

That is six white men. John Gaviller is no good yet. There is the crew of the steamboat, and the men who work for wages, maybe fifteen natives, not more."

"What sort of a man is Greer?" asked Ambrose.

"A lad; full of fun and jokes; a good machinist."

"Where does he sleep at the Fort?"

"He has a room in the old quarters. Gaviller's old house."

"Does he sleep alone?"

"He does."

"Simon," said Ambrose, finally, "can you get me twenty-five good men by dark; steady men with cool heads, who will do what I tell them?"

"I can," said Simon.

"Let them meet at your house," Ambrose went on. "Let every man carry his gun, but you must see that the magazines are emptied, and that no man has any sh.e.l.ls in his pocket. I will have no shooting. Above all, do not let the Indians know that anything is going on to-night."

"It is well!" said Simon laconically. The old dark eyes gleamed.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A BLOODLESS CAPTURE.

In a more innocent state of society such as that which exists in the north, such a thing as a night.w.a.tch is undreamed of. Insomnia is likewise unknown there. At eleven o'clock every soul in Fort Enterprise was drowned deep in slumber.

There was no light in any window; the very buildings seemed to crouch on the earth as if they slept, too. At sundown a film of cloud had crept across the sky, and the moon was dark. It was the very night for deeds of adventure.

Down on the current came a rakish york boat floating as idly as a piece of wreckage. Its hold was filled with bags of grain, on which squatted and lay many dark figures scarcely to be distinguished from the bags.

No whisper marked its pa.s.sage; not a pipe-bowl glowed. On the little steering platform stood Simon Grampierre wielding a long sweep run through a ring astern. The ring was m.u.f.fled with strips of cloth.

Simon kept the craft straight in the current, and as they approached the Company buildings, gradually edged her ash.o.r.e.

The dark steamboat lay with her nose drawn up on a point of stones below the flagstaff. Steamboat and point together caused a little backwater to form beyond, of which Simon was informed.

All he had to do was to urge the nose of his boat into it, and she grounded of herself at the spot where they had chosen to land; that is immediately below the mills.

A dozen moccasined men let themselves softly into the water, and putting their backs under the prow lifted her up a little on the stones. Instantly, as if by the starting of a piece of machinery a chain of bags was started ash.o.r.e from hand to hand.

Ambrose and Tole, who was to be engineer, climbed the bank to reconnoiter. So far no word had been spoken.

Above, along the edge of the bank, were three small buildings in a line, close together. That in the middle was the engine house, with the sawmill on the left and the flour mill on the right.

Ambrose and Tole made for the engine which was housed in a little structure of corrugated iron. The door faced the sawmill. It was an iron sliding door, fastened with hasp and padlock.

Ambrose inserted the point of a crowbar under the hasp, and the whole thing came away with a single metallic report. If any sleeper was awakened by the sound, hearing no other sounds, he probably fell asleep again. Anyhow no alarm was raised as yet.

Tole went back to get a.s.sistance in carrying slabs into the engine room. The sawmill was merely an open shed, and there was an abundance of fuel in sight.

The water supply, being furnished by gravity from a tank overhead, was secure.

With the aid of his electric torch, Ambrose found the belt to run the flour mill in a corner of the engine room. So far so good. His instructions to Tole were simple.

"I'll let you have one man to help you. If they besiege us, I won't be able to communicate with you. Whatever happens, keep the engine going.

Store enough slabs in here to keep her going all night, then close the door, and fasten it some way."

The flour mill was likewise built of corrugated iron. It had two iron doors, one giving on the road, fastened with a padlock, the other on the river side, hooked from within.

Ambrose broke open the first, and throwing back the second, allowed the grain bags to be hustled inside direct from the beach.

He lit a lantern, and cloaking it within his coat, examined the machine. His heart sank at the thought of his difficulties, supposing the next step of his plan should fail.

Ambrose was enough of a machinist to appreciate the difficulty of operating this complicated arrangement of wheels and rollers and frames by lantern light.

Taking five velvet-footed men, he set off around the back of the store, and across the corner of the square to the "quarters." The building so designated was in the middle of the side of the square facing the river.