and notoriously bad-tempered. But Tannis was a beauty.

  Tannis' great-grandmother had been a Cree squaw who

  married a French trapper. The son of this union became

  in due time the father of Auguste Dumont. Auguste

  married a woman whose mother was a French half-breed

  and whose father was a pure-bred Highland Scotchman.

  The result of this atrocious mixture was its

  justification - Tannis of the Flats - who looked as if

  all the blood of all the Howards might be running in

  her veins.

  But, after all, the dominant current in those same

  veins was from the race of plain and prairie. The

  practiced eye detected it in the slender stateliness of

  carriage, in the graceful, yet voluptuous, curves of

  the lithe body, in the smallness and delicacy of hand

  and foot, in the purple sheen on straight-falling

  masses of blue-black hair, and, more than all else, in

  the long, dark eye, full and soft, yet alight with a

  slumbering fire. France, too, was responsible for

  somewhat in Tannis. It gave her a light step in place

  of the stealthy half-breed shuffle, it arched her red

  upper lip into a more tremulous bow, it lent a note of

  laughter to her voice and a sprightlier wit to her

  tongue. As for her red-headed Scotch grandfather, he

  had bequeathed her a somewhat whiter skin and ruddier

  bloom than is usually found in the breeds.

  Old Auguste was mightily proud of Tannis. He sent her

  to school for four years in Prince Albert, bound that

  his girl should have the best. A High School course and

  considerable mingling in the social life of the town -

  for old Auguste was a man to be conciliated by astute

  politicians, since he controlled some two or three

  hundred half-breed votes - sent Tannis home to the

  Flats with a very thin, but very deceptive, veneer of

  culture and civilization overlying the primitive

  passions and ideas of her nature.

  Carey saw only the beauty and the veneer. He made the

  mistake of thinking that Tannis was what she seemed to

  be - a fairly well-educated, up-to-date young woman

  with whom a friendly flirtation was just what it was

  with white womankind - the pleasant amusement of an

  hour or season. It was a mistake - a very big mistake.

  Tannis understood something of piano playing, something

  less of grammar and Latin, and something less still of

  social prevarications. But she understood absolutely

  nothing of flirtation. You can never get an Indian to

  see the sense of Platonics.

  Carey found the Flats quite tolerable after the

  homecoming of Tannis. He soon fell into the habit of

  dropping into the Dumont house to spend the evening,

  talking with Tannis in the parlor - which apartment was

  amazingly well done for a place like the Flats - Tannis

  had not studied Prince Albert parlors four years for

  nothing - or playing violin and piano duets with her.

  When music and conversation palled, they went for long

  gallops over the prairies together. Tannis rode to

  perfection, and managed her bad-tempered brute of a

  pony with a skill and grace that made Carey applaud

  her. She was glorious on horseback.

  Sometimes he grew tired of the prairies and then he and

  Tannis paddled themselves over the river in Nitchie

  Joe's dug-out, and landed on the old trail that struck

  straight into the wooded belt of the Saskatchewan

  valley, leading north to trading posts on the frontier

  of civilization. There they rambled under huge pines,

  hoary with the age of centuries, and Carey talked to

  Tannis about England and quoted poetry to her. Tannis

  liked poetry; she had studied it at school, and

  understood it fairly well. But once she told Carey that

  she thought it a long, round-about way of saying what

  you could say just as well in about a dozen plain

  words. Carey laughed. He liked to evoke those little

  speeches of hers. They sounded very clever, dropping

  from such arched, ripely-tinted lips.

  If you had told Carey that he was playing with fire he

  would have laughed at you. In the first place he was

  not in the slightest degree in love with Tannis - he

  merely admired and liked her. In the second place, it

  never occurred to him that Tannis might be in love with

  him. Why, he had never attempted any love-making with

  her! And, above all, he was obsessed with that

  aforesaid fatal idea that Tannis was like the women he

  had associated with all his life, in reality as well as

  in appearance. He did not know enough of the racial

  characteristics to understand.

  But, if Carey thought his relationship with Tannis was

  that of friendship merely, he was the only one at the

  Flats who did think so. All the half-breeds and

  quarter-breeds and any-fractional breeds there believed

  that he meant to marry Tannis. There would have been

  nothing surprising to them in that. They did not know

  that Carey's second cousin was a baronet, and they

  would not have understood that it need make any

  difference, if they had. They thought that rich old

  Auguste's heiress, who had been to school for four

  years in Prince Albert, was a catch for anybody.

  Old Auguste himself shrugged his shoulders over it and

  was well-pleased enough. An Englishman was a prize by

  way of a husband for a half-breed girl, even if he were

  only a telegraph operator. Young Paul Dumont worshipped

  Carey, and the half-Scotch mother, who might have

  understood, was dead. In all the Flats there were but

  two people who disapproved of the match they thought an

  assured thing. One of these was the little priest,

  Father Gabriel. He liked Tannis, and he liked Carey;

  but he shook his head dubiously when he heard the

  gossip of the shacks and teepees. Religions might

  mingle, but the different bloods - ah, it was not the

  right thing! Tannis was a good girl, and a beautiful

  one; but she was no fit mate for the fair, thorough-

  bred Englishman. Father Gabriel wished fervently that

  Jerome Carey might soon be transferred elsewhere. He

  even went to Prince Albert and did a little wire-

  pulling on his own account, but nothing came of it. He

  was on the wrong side of politics.

  The other malcontent was Lazarre Merimee, a lazy,

  besotted French half-breed, who was, after his fashion,

  in love with Tannis. He could never have got her, and

  he knew it - old Auguste and young Paul would have

  incontinently riddled him with bullets had he ventured

  near the house as a suitor, - but he hated Carey none

  the less, and watched for a chance to do him an ill-

  turn. There is no worse enemy in all the world than a

  half-breed. Your true Indian is bad enough, but his

  diluted descendant is ten times worse.

  As for Tannis, she loved Carey with all her heart, and
/>
  that was all there was about it.

  If Elinor Blair had never gone to Prince Albert there

  is no knowing what might have happened, after all.

  Carey, so powerful in propinquity, might even have

  ended by learning to love Tannis and marrying her, to

  his own worldly undoing. But Elinor did go to Prince

  Albert, and her going ended all things for Tannis of

  the Flats.

  Carey met her one evening in September, when he had

  ridden into town to attend a dance, leaving Paul Dumont

  in charge of the telegraph office. Elinor had just

  arrived in Prince Albert on a visit to Tom, to which

  she had been looking forward during the five years

  since he had married and moved out West from Avonlea.

  As I have already said, she was very beautiful at that

  time, and Carey fell in love with her at the first

  moment of their meeting.

  During the next three weeks he went to town nine times

  and called at the Dumonts' only once. There were no

  more rides and walks with Tannis. This was not

  intentional neglect on his part. He had simply

  forgotten all about her. The breeds surmised a lover's

  quarrel, but Tannis understood. There was another woman

  back there in town.

  It would be quite impossible to put on paper any

  adequate idea of her emotions at this stage. One night,

  she followed Carey when he went to Prince Albert,

  riding out of earshot, behind him on her plains pony,

  but keeping him in sight. Lazarre, in a fit of

  jealousy, had followed Tannis, spying on her until she

  started back to the Flats. After that he watched both

  Carey and Tannis incessantly, and months later had told

  Tom all he had learned through his low sneaking.

  Tannis trailed Carey to the Blair house, on the bluffs

  above the town, and saw him tie his horse at the gate

  and enter. She, too, tied her pony to a poplar, lower

  down, and then crept stealthily through the willows at

  the side of the house until she was close to the

  windows. Through one of them she could see Carey and

  Elinor. The half-breed girl crouched down in the shadow

  and glared at her rival. She saw the pretty, fair-

  tinted face, the fluffy coronal of golden hair, the

  blue, laughing eyes of the woman whom Jerome Carey

  loved, and she realized very plainly that there was

  nothing left to hope for. She, Tannis of the Flats,

  could never compete with that other. It was well to

  know so much, at least.

  After a time, she crept softly away, loosed her pony,

  and lashed him mercilessly with her whip through the

  streets of the town and out the long, dusty river

  trail. A man turned and looked after her as she tore

  past a brightly lighted store on Water Street.

  "That was Tannis of the Flats," he said to a companion.

  "She was in town last winter, going to school - a

  beauty and a bit of the devil, like all those breed

  girls. What in thunder is she riding like that for?"

  One day, a fortnight later, Carey went over the river

  alone for a ramble up the northern trail, and an

  undisturbed dream of Elinor. When he came back Tannis

  was standing at the canoe landing, under a pine tree,

  in a rain of finely sifted sunlight. She was waiting

  for him and she said, with any preface:

  "Mr. Carey, why do you never come to see me, now?"

  Carey flushed like any girl. Her tone and look made him

  feel very uncomfortable. He remembered, self-

  reproachfully, that he must have seemed very

  neglectful, and he stammered something about having

  been busy.

  "Not very busy," said Tannis, with her terrible

  directness. "It is not that. It is because you are

  going to Prince Albert to see a white woman!"

  Even in his embarrassment Carey noted that this was the

  first time he had ever heard Tannis use the expression,

  "a white woman," or any other that would indicate her

  sense of a difference between herself and the dominant

  race. He understood, at the same moment, that this girl

  was not to be trifled with - that she would have the

  truth out of him, first or last. But he felt

  indescribably foolish.

  "I suppose so," he answered lamely.

  "And what about me?" asked Tannis.

  When you come to think of it, this was an embarrassing

  question, especially for Carey, who had believed that

  Tannis understood the game, and played it for its own

  sake, as he did.

  "I don't understand you, Tannis," he said hurriedly.

  "You have made me love you," said Tannis.

  The words sound flat enough on paper. They did not

  sound flat to Tom, as repeated by Lazarre, and they

  sounded anything but flat to Carey, hurled at him as

  they were by a woman trembling with all the passions of

  her savage ancestry. Tannis had justified her criticism

  of poetry. She had said her half-dozen words, instinct

  with all the despair and pain and wild appeal that all

  the poetry in the world had ever expressed.

  They made Carey feel like a scoundrel. All at once he

  realized how impossible it would be to explain matters

  to Tannis, and that he would make a still bigger fool

  of himself, if he tried.

  "I am very sorry," he stammered, like a whipped

  schoolboy.

  "It is no matter," interrupted Tannis violently. "What

  difference does it make about me - a half-breed girl?

  We breed girls are only born to amuse the white men.

  That is so - is it not? Then, when they are tired of

  us, they push us aside and go back to their own kind.

  Oh, it is very well. But I will not forget - my father

  and brother will not forget. They will make you sorry

  to some purpose!"

  She turned, and stalked away to her canoe. He waited

  under the pines until she crossed the river; then he,

  too, went miserably home. What a mess he had contrived

  to make of things! Poor Tannis! How handsome she had

  looked in her fury - and how much like a squaw! The

  racial marks always come out plainly under the stress

  of emotion, as Tom noted later.

  Her threat did not disturb him. If young Paul and old

  Auguste made things unpleasant for him, he thought

  himself more than a match for them. It was the thought

  of the suffering he had brought upon Tannis that

  worried him. He had not, to be sure, been a villain;

  but he had been a fool, and that is almost as bad,

  under some circumstances.

  The Dumonts, however, did not trouble him. After all,

  Tannis' four years in Prince Albert had not been

  altogether wasted. She knew that white girls did not

  mix their male relatives up in a vendetta when a man

  ceased calling on them - and she had nothing else to

  complain of that could be put in words. After some

  reflection she concluded to hold her tongue. She even

  laughed when old Aug
uste asked her what was up between

  her and her fellow, and said she had grown tired of

  him. Old Auguste shrugged his shoulders resignedly. It

  was just as well, maybe. Those English sons-in-law

  sometimes gave themselves too many airs.

  So Carey rode often to town and Tannis bided her time,

  and plotted futile schemes of revenge, and Lazarre

  Merimee scowled and got drunk - and life went on at the

  Flats as usual, until the last week in October, when a

  big wind and rainstorm swept over the northland.

  It was a bad night. The wires were down between the

  Flats and Prince Albert and all communication with the

  outside world was cut off. Over at Joe Esquint's the

  breeds were having a carouse in honor of Joe's

  birthday. Paul Dumont had gone over, and Carey was

  alone in the office, smoking lazily and dreaming of

  Elinor.

  Suddenly, above the plash of rain and whistle of wind,

  he heard outcries in the street. Running to the door he

  was met by Mrs. Joe Esquint, who grasped him

  breathlessly.

  "Meestair Carey - come quick! Lazarre, he kill Paul -

  they fight!"

  Carey, with a smothered oath, rushed across the street.

  He had been afraid of something of the sort, and had

  advised Paul not to go, for those half-breed carouses

  almost always ended in a free fight. He burst into the

  kitchen at Joe Esquint's, to find a circle of mute

  spectators ranged around the room and Paul and Lazarre

  in a clinch in the center. Carey was relieved to find

  it was only an affair of fists. He promptly hurled

  himself at the combatants and dragged Paul away, while

  Mrs. Joe Esquint - Joe himself being dead-drunk in a

  corner - flung her fat arms about Lazarre and held him

  back.

  "Stop this," said Carey sternly.

  "He Had Been Afraid Of Something Of The Sort"

  "Let me get at him," foamed Paul. "He insulted my

  sister. He said that you - let me get at him!"

  He could not writhe free from Carey's iron grip.

  Lazarre, with a snarl like a wolf, sent Mrs. Joe

  spinning, and rushed at Paul. Carey struck out as best

  he could, and Lazarre went reeling back against the

  table. It went over with a crash and the light went

  out!

  Mrs. Joe's shrieks might have brought the roof down. In

  the confusion that ensued, two pistol shots rang out

  sharply. There was a cry, a groan, a fall - then a rush

  for the door. When Mrs. Joe Esquint's sister-in-law,

  Marie, dashed in with another lamp, Mrs. Joe was still

  shrieking, Paul Dumont was leaning sickly against the

  wall with a dangling arm, and Carey lay face downward

  on the floor, with blood trickling from under him.

  Marie Esquint was a woman of nerve. She told Mrs. Joe

  to shut up, and she turned Carey over. He was

  conscious, but seemed dazed and could not help himself.

  Marie put a coat under his head, told Paul to lie down

  on the bench, ordered Mrs. Joe to get a bed ready, and

  went for the doctor. It happened that there was a

  doctor at the Flats that night - a Prince Albert man

  who had been up at the Reservation, fixing up some sick

  Indians, and had been stormstaid at old Auguste's on

  his way back.

  Marie soon returned with the doctor, old Auguste, and

  Tannis. Carey was carried in and laid on Mrs. Esquint's

  bed. The doctor made a brief examination, while Mrs.

  Joe sat on the floor and howled at the top of her

  lungs. Then he shook his head.

  "Shot in the back," he said briefly.

  "How long?" asked Carey, understanding.

  "Perhaps till morning," answered the doctor. Mrs. Joe

  gave a louder howl than ever at this, and Tannis came

  and stood by the bed. The doctor, knowing that he could

  do nothing for Carey, hurried into the kitchen to

  attend to Paul, who had a badly shattered arm, and

  Marie went with him.

  Carey looked stupidly at Tannis.

  "Send for her," he said.

  Tannis smiled cruelly.

  "There is no way. The wires are down, and there is no

  man at the Flats who will go to town to-night," she

  answered.

  "My God, I must see her before I die," burst out Carey

  pleadingly. "Where is Father Gabriel? He will go."

  "The priest went to town last night and has not come