get his rancor against Phinny. Never had he been so pleased to meet a man.
"Thought you was dead," he faltered.
"Head's thick," Phinny good-naturedly replied. "Bullet creased my skull. Unconscious for a bit. Men thought I was done for. I took the company's boat right after that fool Tilton went up on the Golden Queen to bother you. It was a fair fight and what he did wasn't any of my doings. I don't bring any quarrel up here against you. How's trade, Mr. Bridger?"
"Fair—I've got some mighty fine Crow robes you can have if you want 'em."
"Robes are good, but we're after beaver."
"Don't seem to be much beaver left. You oughter got here sooner."
Phinny swore and in deep disgust complained:
"That's what I told Mr. McKenzie, but he was so sure I'd be in time he held me back. What'll you take in trade for the robes?"
"Beaver, or an order on your St. Louis office for cash."
"Then it'll have to be an order at the market price. And, Lander, I'm really glad to see you. There's no fight between us, I repeat, so far as I'm concerned."
