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Each of the three men had been told to go to the burying-ground, and to wait there until Jack himself should arrive. Ladoc was surprised on receiving the order, but, as we have seen, obeyed it. He was more than surprised, however, when he saw Rollo walk into the enclosure, and still more astonished when Francois followed in due course. None of the three spoke. They felt that Jack would not keep them long in suspense, and they were right. He soon appeared–smoking calmly.

“Now, lads,” said he, “come here. Stand aside, Francois. I have brought you to this place to witness our proceedings, and to carry back a true report to your comrades. Ladoc and Rollo, (here Jack’s face became suddenly very stern; there was something intense, though not loud, in his voice), you have kept my men in constant hot water by your quarrelling since you came together. I mean to put an end to this. You don’t seem to be quite sure which of you is the best man. You shall settle that question this day, on this spot, and within this hour. So set to, you rascals! Fight or shake hands. I will see fair play!”

Jack blazed up at this point, and stepped up to the men with such a fierce expression, that they were utterly cowed.

“Fight, I say, or shake hands, or–” Here Jack paused, and his teeth were heard to grate harshly together.

The two bullies stood abashed. They evidently did not feel inclined to “come to the scratch.” Yet they saw by the peculiar way in which their master grasped his cudgel, that it would be worse for both of them if they did not obey.

“Well,” said Ladoc, turning with a somewhat candid smile to Rollo, “I’s willin’ to shake hands if you be.”

He held out his hand to Rollo, who took it in a shamefaced sort of way and then dropped it.

“Good,” said Jack; “now you may go back to the hut; but, walk arm in arm. Let your comrades see that you are friends. Come, no hesitation!”

The tone of command could not be resisted; the two men walked down to the river arm in arm, as if they had been the best of friends, and little Francois followed–chuckling!

Next day a man arrived on foot with a letter to the gentlemen in charge of Fort Desolation. He and another man had conveyed it to the fort in a canoe from Fort Kamenistaquoia.

“What have we here?” said Jack Robinson, sitting down on the gunwale of a boat and breaking the seal.

The letter ran as follows:–

“Fort Kamenistaquoia, etcetera, etcetera.

“My Dear Jack,

“I am sorry to tell you that the business has all gone to sticks and stivers. We have not got enough of capital to compete with the Hudson’s Bay Company, and I may remark, privately, that if we had, it would not be worth while to oppose them on this desolate coast. The trade, therefore, is to be given up, and the posts abandoned. I have sent a clerk to succeed you and wind up the business, at Fort Desolation, as I want you to come here directly, to consult as to future plans.

“Your loving but unfortunate friend,

“J. Murray.”

On reading this epistle, Jack heaved a deep sigh.

“Adrift again!” he muttered.

At that moment his attention was arrested by the sound of voices in dispute. Presently the door of the men’s house was flung open, and Rollo appeared with a large bundle on his shoulders. The bundle contained his “little all.” He was gesticulating passionately to his comrades.

“What’s wrong now?” said Jack to Francois, as the latter came towards him.

“Rollo he go ‘way,” said Francois. “There be an Indian come in hims canoe, and Rollo make up his mind to go off vid him.”