"d.a.m.n you!" said Joe thickly. "Keep away from me! If you tread on my toes you're going to get hurt! I've a hard fist for them I don't like!"

Sam jeered. "Keep your toes out of my path if you don't want them trodden on. As for fists, I'll match you any time you want."

Joe drove off around the bay, and Sam headed for Grier's Point, whistling.

Next morning he awoke smiling at the sun. Somehow since yesterday the world was made over. As usual he had Grier's Point to himself. His bed was upon spruce-boughs at the edge of the stony beach. Stripping, he plunged into the icy lake, and emerged pink and gasping.

After dressing and feeding his horses, upon surveying his own grub-box--salt pork and cold bannock!--it took him about five seconds to decide to breakfast at Bela's. This meant the hard work of loading his wagon on an empty stomach. Unlocking the little warehouse, he set to work with a will.

Three hours later he drove in before the stopping-house, and, hitching his team to the tree, left them a little hay to while the time. The "resteraw" was empty. Other breakfast guests had come and gone.

"Oh, Bela!" he cried.

She stuck her head in the other door. Her expression was severely non-committal.

"Bela, my stomach's as empty as a stocking on the floor! I feel like a drawn chicken. For the love of mercy fill me up!"

"It's half-past eight," she said coldly.

"I know, but I had to load up before I could come. A couple of slices of breakfast bacon and a cup of coffee! Haven't tasted coffee in months. They say your coffee is a necktie for the G.o.ds!"

"I can't be cooking all day!" said Bela, flouncing out.

Nevertheless he heard the stove-lids clatter outside, and the sound of the kettle drawn forward. He was going to get fresh coffee at that!

In a few minutes it was set before him; not only the coffee with condensed milk, a luxury north of fifty-four, but fried fish as well, and a plate of steaming cakes. Sam fell to with a groan of ecstasy.

Bela stood for a moment watching him with her inscrutable, detached air, then turned to go out.

"I say," called Sam with his mouth full, "pour yourself a cup of coffee, and come and drink it with me."

"I never eat with the boarders," she stated.

"Oh, hang it!" said Sam like a lord, "you give yourself too many airs!

Go and do what you're told."

He found a delicious, subtle pleasure in ordering her about. As for Bela, she gasped a little and stared, then her eyes fell--perhaps she liked it too. Anyhow, she shrugged indifferently, cast a look out of the window to see if anyone was coming up the road, and disappeared in the kitchen. Presently she returned with a steaming cup, and, sitting opposite Sam, stirred it slowly without looking up.

Sam's eyes twinkled wickedly. "That's better. You know with all these fellows coming around and praising up your grub and everything, you're beginning to think you're the regular queen of Beaver Bay. You need to be taken down a peg!"

"What do you care?" she asked.

"Bless you, I don't care," replied Sam. "I'm only telling you for your own good. I don't like to see a nice girl get her head turned."

"What's the matter wit' you so quick?" retorted Bela. "You're talkin'

pretty big since yesterday."

Sam laughed delightedly. His soul was not deceived by her scornful airs, nor was hers by his pretended hectoring. While they abused each other, each was thrilled by the sense of the other's nearness.

Moreover, each knew how it was with the other.

Sam, having eaten his fill, planted his elbows, and leaned nearer to her across the narrow board. She did not draw back. Under the table their moccasined feet touched by accident, and each breast was shaken.

Bela slowly drew her foot away. Their heads involuntarily came closer.

The sweetness that emanated from her almost overpowered him.

His breath came quicker; his eyes were languorous and teasing. Bela gave him her eyes and he saw into them a thousand fathoms deep. It was that exquisite moment when the heart sees what the tongue will not yet acknowledge, when nearness is sweeter than touch. Yet he said with curling lip:

"You need a master!"

And she answered scornfully: "You couldn't do it."

There was a sound of wheels outside. They sprang up. Sam swore under his breath. Bela looked out of the door.

"It's Joe," she said.

Sam hardened.

"You've got to go," she said swiftly and peremptorily. "You've finished eating. I won't have no trouble here."

Sam scowled. "Well--I'll go after he comes in," he returned doggedly.

"I won't run away at the sight of him."

Joe entered with a sullen air. He had already seen Sam's team outside.

"Morning," said Sam. His was the temper that is scrupulously polite to an enemy.

Joe muttered in his throat.

"Well, I'm just off," observed Sam. "How's the mud?"

Joe sneered. "No worse than usual," he replied.

It was hard for Sam to go after the sneer. He hesitated. But he had promised. He looked at Bela, but she would not meet his eye. Finally he shrugged and went out. They heard him talking to his horses outside. Joe, scowling and avoiding Bela's eye, dropped into the seat the other man had vacated.

"Breakfast," he muttered.

Bela knew very well that it was his custom to eat before he started out in the morning. She said nothing, but glanced at the clock on the dresser.

"Ah, you'll feed him any time he wants!" snarled Joe.

"I treat everybody the same," she answered coolly. "You can have breakfast if you want."

"Well, I do," he muttered.

She went into the kitchen and started her preparations. Returning, she cleared away the dirty dishes, not, however, before Joe had marked the second cup on the table.

When she put his food before him he said: "Get yourself a cup of coffee and sit down with me." He was really trying to be agreeable, not, however, with much success.

"I got work to do," Bela mildly objected.