But his experience was such that he never went again, for Jack French in his madness nearly killed the boy, who was brought sadly battered to Brown’s hospital, where he lay for a week or more.  Every day, French, penetrated with penitence, visited him, lavishing on the boy a new tenderness.  But when Kalman was on his feet again, French laid it upon him, and bound him by a solemn promise that he should never again follow him to the Crossing, or interfere when he was not master of himself.  It was a hard promise to give, but once given, that settled the matter for both.  With Brown he never discussed Jack French’s weakness, but every Sunday afternoon, when in his own home Brown prayed for friends near and dear, committing them into the Heavenly Father’s keeping, in their minds, chiefly and before all others was the man whom they had all come to love as an elder brother, and for whose redemption they were ready to lay down their lives.  And this was the strongest strand in the bond that bound Kalman and his friend together.  So to Brown Kalman went with his plans for the coming summer, and with most happy results.  For through the spring and summer, following Brown’s advice and under Kalman’s immediate directions, a strong force of Galicians with horse teams and ox teams were kept hard at work, breaking and back-setting, in anticipation of an early sowing in the following spring.  In the meantime Brown himself was full of work.  The addition to his hospital was almost always full of patients; his school had begun to come back to him again, for the gratitude of his warm-hearted Galician people, in return for his many services to their sick and suffering, sufficed to overcome their fear of the Polish priest, whose unpriestly habits and whose mercenary spirit were fast turning against him even the most loyal of his people.  In the expressive words of old Portnoff, who, it is to be feared, had little religion in his soul, was summed up the general opinion:  “Dat Klazowski bad man.  He drink, drink all time, take money, money for everyting.  He damn school, send doctor man hell fire,” the meaning of which was abundantly obvious to both Brown and his wife.

So full of work were they all, both at the ranch and at Wakota, that almost without their knowing it the summer had gone, and autumn, with its golden glorious days, nippy evenings, and brilliant starry nights, Canada’s most delightful season, was upon them.  Throughout the summer the construction gangs had steadily worked their way north and west, and had crossed the Saskatchewan, and were approaching the Eagle Hill country.  Preceding the construction army, and following it, were camp followers and attendants of various kinds.  On the one hand the unlicensed trader and whiskey pedlar, the bane of the contractor and engineer; on the other hand the tourist, the capitalist, and the speculator, whom engineers and contractors received with welcome or with scant tolerance, according to the letters of introduction they brought from the great men in the East.