Yet his spirit was such that he could not lean to all the possible gain of the future, and leave a debt unpaid.

Then his voice, his look, his influence were those of a fighter.

They all drank with him, even Jean, who hated liquor.

And this act of drinking seemed the climax of the council.
Preparations were at once begun for their departure on Jorth's trail.
Jean took but little time for his own needs.

A horse, a blanket, a knapsack of meat and bread, a canteen, and his weapons, with all the ammunition he could pack, made up his outfit.