“You know what I did with that bear,” he said.  “More than a year ago I made friends with her up there on the hill instead of killing her.  Last summer I got her so she’d eat out of my hands.  I fed her a barrel of sugar between July and November.  We used to chum it an hour at a time, and I’d pet her like a dog.  Why, damn it, man, I thought more of that bear than I did of any human in these regions!  And she got so fond of me she didn’t leave to den up until January.  This spring she came out with two cubs, an’ as soon as they could waddle she brought ’em out there on the hillside an’ waited for me.  We were better chums than ever.  I’ve got another half barrel of sugar—­lump sugar—­on the way from Edmonton.  An’ now what do you think that damned C.N.R. gang has done?”

“They haven’t shot her?”

“No, they haven’t shot her.  I wish to God they had!  They’ve blown her up!”

The little engineer subsided into a chair.

“Do you hear?” he demanded.  “They’ve blown her up!  Put a stick of dynamite under some sugar, attached a battery wire to it, an’ when she was licking up the sugar touched it off.  An’ I can’t do anything, damn ’em!  Bears ain’t protected.  The government of this province calls ’em ‘pests.’  Murder ’em on sight, it says.  An’ those fiends over there think it’s a good joke on me—­an’ the bear!”

Keller was sweating.  His fat hands were clenched, and his round, plump body fairly shook with excitement and anger.

“When I went over to-night they laughed at me—­the whole bunch,” he went on thickly.  “I offered to lick every man in the outfit from A to Z, an’ I ain’t had a fight in twenty years.  Instead of fighting like men, a dozen of them grabbed hold of me, chucked me into a blanket, an’ bounced me for fifteen minutes straight!  What do you think of that, Aldous?  Me—­assistant divisional engineer of the G.T.P.—­bounced in a blanket!”

Peter Keller hopped from his chair and began pacing back and forth across the room again, sucking truculently on his pipe.

“If they were on our road I’d—­I’d chase every man of them out of the country.  But they’re not.  They belong to the C.N.R.  They’re out of my reach.”  He stopped, suddenly, in front of Aldous.  “What can I do?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” said Aldous.  “You’ve had something like this coming to you, Peter.  I’ve been expecting it.  All the camps for twenty miles up and down the line know what you thought of that bear.  You fired Tibbits because, as you said, he was too thick with Quade.  You told him that right before Quade’s face.  Tibbits is now foreman of that grading gang over there.  Two and two make four, you know.  Tibbits—­Quade—­the blown-up bear.  Quade doesn’t miss an opportunity, no matter how small it is.  Tibbits and Quade did this to get even with you.  You might report the blanket affair to the contractors of the other road.  I don’t believe they would stand for it.”