"Pardon me, Mr. St. Clair," said that gentleman, holding up his hand. "I used to check a little at Rugby, but--"

"Not you, by a long hand," interrupted Harry, disdainfully.

"This awfully charming brother of yours, so very frank, don't you know!"

said the lieutenant, softly, to Maimie, while they all laughed.

"But here is your man, governor," said Harry, laying his hand on Ranald.

"Ranald!" exclaimed Mr. St. Clair. "Why, the very man! You understand timber, and you are honest."

"I will answer for both with my head," said Harry.

"What do you say, Ranald?" said Mr. St. Clair. "Will you take a day to think it over?"

"No," said Ranald; "I will be your checker." And so Ranald became part of the firm of Raymond & St. Clair.

"Come along, Ranald," said Harry. "We will take the girls home, and then come back to the office."

"Yes, do come," said Kate, heartily. Maimie said nothing.

"No," said Ranald; "I will go back to the raft first, and then come to the office. Shall I begin tonight?" he said to Mr. St. Clair.

"To-morrow morning will do, Ranald," said Mr. St. Clair. "Come up to the hotel and see us tonight." But Ranald said nothing. Then Maimie went up to him.

"Good by, just now," she said, smiling into his face. "You will come and see us to-night, perhaps?"

Ranald looked at her, while the blood mounted slowly into his dark cheek, and said: "Yes, I will come."

"What's the matter with you, Maimie?" said Harry, indignantly, when they had got outside. "You would think Ranald was a stranger, the way you treat him."

"And he is just splendid! I wish he had pulled ME out of the fire,"

cried Kate.

"You might try the river," said the lieutenant. "I fancy he would go in.

Looks that sort."

"Go in?" cried Harry, "he would go anywhere." The lieutenant made no reply. He evidently considered that it was hardly worth the effort to interest himself in the young lumberman, but before he was many hours older he found reason to change his mind.

After taking the young ladies to their hotel there was still an hour till the lieutenant's dinner, so, having resolved to cultivate the St.

Clair family, he proposed accompanying Harry back to the office.

As they approached the lower portion of the town they heard wild shouts, and sauntering down a side street, they came upon their French-Canadian friend of the afternoon. He was standing with his back against a wall trying to beat off three or four men, who were savagely striking and kicking at him, and crying the while: "Gatineau! Gatineau!"

It was the Gatineau against the Ottawa.

"Our friend seems to have found the object of his search," said the lieutenant, as he stood across the street looking at the melee.

"I say, he's a good one, isn't he?" cried Harry, admiring the Ottawa's dauntless courage and his fighting skill.

"His eagerness for war will probably be gratified in a few minutes, by the look of things," replied the lieutenant.

The Gatineaus were crowding around, and had evidently made up their minds to bring the Ottawa champion to the dust. That they were numbers to one mattered not at all. There was little chivalry in a shantymen's fight.

"Ha! Rather a good one, that," exclaimed the lieutenant, mildly interested. "He put that chap out somewhat neatly." He lit a cigar and stood coolly watching the fight.

"Where are the Ottawas--the fellow's friends?" said Harry, much excited.

"I rather think they camp on another street further down."

The Ottawa champion was being sorely pressed, and it looked as if in a moment or two more he would be down.

"What a shame!" cried Harry.

"Well," said the lieutenant, languidly, "it's beastly dirty, but the chap's done rather well, so here goes."

Smoking his cigar, and followed by Harry, he pushed across the street to the crowd, and got right up to the fighters.

"Here, you fellows," he called out, in a high, clear voice, "what the deuce do you mean, kicking up such a row? Come now, stop, and get out of here."

The astonished crowd stopped fighting and fell back a little. The calm, clear voice of command and her majesty's uniform awed them.

"Mon camarade!" said the lieutenant, removing his cigar and saluting, "rather warm, eh?"

"You bet! Ver' warm tam," was the reply.

"Better get away, mon ami. The odds are rather against you," said the lieutenant. "Your friends are some distance down the next street.

You better go along." So saying, he stepped out toward the crowd of Gatineaus who were consulting and yelling.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," he said, politely, waving his little cane. Those immediately in front gave back, allowed the lieutenant, followed by the Ottawa man and Harry, to pass, and immediately closed in behind.

They might have escaped had it not been that the Ottawa man found it impossible to refrain from hurling taunts at them and inviting them to battle. They had gone not more than two blocks when there was a rush from behind, and before they could defend themselves they were each in the midst of a crowd, fighting for their lives. The principal attack was, of course, made upon the Ottawa man, but the crowd was quite determined to prevent the lieutenant and Harry from getting near him. In vain they struggled to break through the yelling mass of Gatineaus, who now had become numerous enough to fill the street from wall to wall, and among whom could be seen some few of the Ottawa men trying to force their way toward their champion. By degrees both Harry and De Lacy fought their way to the wall, and toward each other.

"Looks as if our man had met his Waterloo," said the lieutenant, waiting for his particular man to come again.

"What a lot of beasts they are!" said Harry, disgustedly, beating off his enemy.

"Hello! Here they come again. We shall have to try another shot, I suppose," said the lieutenant, as the crowd, which had for a few moments surged down the street, now came crushing back, with the Ottawa leader, and some half-dozen of his followers in the center.

"Well, here goes," said De Lacy, leaving the wall and plunging into the crowd, followed by Harry. As they reached the center a voice called out: "A bas les Anglais!"

And immediately the cry, a familiar enough one in those days, was taken up on all sides. The crowd stiffened, and the attack upon the center became more determined than ever. The little company formed a circle, and standing back to back, held their ground for a time.

"Make for the wall. Keep together," cried De Lacy, pushing out toward the side, and followed by his company. But, one by one, the Ottawas were being dragged down and trampled beneath the "corked" boots of their foes, till only two of them, with their leader, beside Harry and De Lacy, were left.

At length the wall was gained. There they faced about and for a time held their lives safe. But every moment fresh men rushed in upon them, yelling their cries, "Gatineau! Gatineau! A bas les Anglais!"

The Ottawa leader was panting hard, and he could not much longer hold his own. His two companions were equally badly off. Harry was pale and bleeding, but still in good heart. The lieutenant was unmarked as yet, and coolly smoking his cigar, but he knew well that unless help arrived their case was hopeless.

"We can't run," he remarked, calmly, "but a dignified and speedy retreat is in order if it can be executed. There is a shop a little distance down here. Let us make for it."