Jimmy here has been filling him up," shaking his finger at the culprit, "which he had no right to do, knowing Jack French as he does, by the same token." "Oh, come on, Mac," said Jimmy apologetically.

"You know Jack French, and when he gets a-goin' could I stop him?
No, nor you." Next morning when Kalman came forth from the loft which served Jimmy Green as store room for his marvellously varied merchandise, he found that Macmillan had long since taken the trail and was by this time miles on his journey toward Edmonton.

The boy was lonely and sick at heart.

Macmillan had been a friend to him, and had constituted the last link that held him to the life he had left behind in the city.

It was to Macmillan that the little white-faced lady who was to the boy the symbol of all that was high and holy in character, had entrusted him for safe deliverance to her brother Jack French.