Chloe was speaking again:  “But to return to the buildings——­”

Lapierre interrupted her, speaking earnestly:  “My dear Miss Elliston, consider the circumstances, the limitations.”  He tapped lightly the roll of blue-prints the girl held in her hand.  “Those plans were made by a man who had not the slightest knowledge of conditions as they exist here.”

“The buildings are to be very simple.”

“Undoubtedly.  But simplicity is relative.  A building that would be considered simplicity itself in the States, might well be intricate beyond the possibility of construction here in the wilderness.  Do you realize that among our men is not one who can read a blue-print, or has ever seen one?  Do you realize that to erect buildings in accordance with these plans would require a force of skilled mechanics under the supervision of a master builder?  And do you realize that time is a most important factor in our present undertaking?  Who can tell at what moment Brute MacNair may swoop down, upon us like Attila of old, and strike a fatal blow to our little outpost of civilization?  And if he finds me here—­” His voice trailed into silence and his eyes swept gloomily the northern reach of the river.

Chloe appeared unimpressed.  “I hardly think he will resort to violence.  There is the law—­even here in the wilderness.  Slow to act, perhaps, because of the inaccessibility of the wild country; but once its machinery is in motion, as unbending and as indomitable as justice itself.  You see, I have read of your Mounted Police.”

“The Mounted!” Lapierre laughed.  “Yes—­I see you have read of them!  Had you derived your information in a more direct manner—­had you lived among them—­if you knew them—­your childlike trust in them would seem as absurd, perhaps, as it does to me!”

“What do you mean?” cried the girl, regarding the quarter-breed with a searching glance.  “That the men of the Mounted are—­that they may be—­influenced?”

Again Lapierre laughed—­harshly.  “Just that, Miss Elliston!  They are—­crooked.  They may be influenced!”

“I cannot believe that!”

“You will—­later.”

“You mean that MacNair has——­”

The man interrupted with a wave of his hand.  “What I have told you of MacNair is the truth.  I shall prove this to your own satisfaction, at the proper time.  Until then, I ask you to believe me.  Admitting, then, that I have spoken the truth, do you suppose for an instant that these facts are not known to the Mounted?  If not, then the officers are inefficient fools.  If they are known, why don’t the Mounted remedy matters?  Because MacNair is rich!  Because he buys them, body and soul!  Because he owns them, like he owns the Indians!  That’s why!

“Just stop and consider what is ahead of a dollar-a-day policeman.  When his five-year term of enlistment has expired, he has his choice of enlisting for another term, or making his living some other way.  At the end of the five years he has learned to hate the service with a hatred that is soul-searing.  It is the hardest, strictest, most exacting, and most ill-paid service in the world; and the five years of the man’s enlistment have practically rendered him unfit for earning a living.