played him tricks, but on entering the room he found only Parker. He was reclining in a chair and was scowling villainously.
"Show me that order," Parker growled. "Don't stand there like an idiot. Have you an order on the A. F. C. or haven't you?"
Without a word Lander presented it. Parker frowned over it, grunted several times, then endorsed it and handed it back and demanded:
"Why didn't you bring it here at once when you heard I was laid up? Loafing round town and enjoying your reputation for being a mountain man, eh? Pushing your smug face round for people to admire while your boss' business was sliding to the dogs."
"You forget I wasn't to come here till I was asked," Lander answered, his face dismal with disappointment. All the down-river day-dreams were dead. His medicine was weak and foolish.
"What about your getting a big batch of beaver?" sneered Parker.
"Jim Bridger pulled me and forty packs out of a Blackfoot camp. I take no credit for that," he wearily replied.
Then with a sudden flash of spirit:
"But I did help Mr. Bridger bring them from
