George Tracy Marsh

“ In his humble grave in the mission cemetery, André Marcel could now sleep in peace, for in the eyes of the small world of the east coast, his son had come scatheless through the long snows. No tale would now travel down the coast in the inspector’s canoe that another white man had turned murderer for the scanty food of his friends. ”

“ Life had little value to him now, he would give these thieves what they were after. “You ’fraid to come on shore? You squeal lak’ rabbit; you t’ief!” he taunted.
Continuing to shout that Marcel was attacking them, the Lelacs landed their canoe and the elder son, evidently drunk, lurched toward the man who waited.
“Rabbit, am I?” roared the frenzied half-breed, and struck savagely at Jean with his paddle. ”

“ Jean Marcel!” gasped Jules, recognizing his friend. “He ees cut bad?”
The Husky shook his head. “He not kill!”
Staring at the dead man transfixed by the spear and his unconscious father, Jules roared: “De t’ief, dey try revange on Jean Marcel!”
Stripping off his own shirt, Jules bandaged Marcel’s shoulder. As he worked, one thing he told himself. Had they killed Marcel, the Lelacs would not have gone south for trial. Father and son would never have left the beach at Whale River alive. ”

“ The Lelacs go south for trial, now, and they won’t need you as a witness either,” announced Wallace.
“Yes, we’ll have to get rid of them,” admitted the factor. “They were crazy to do this after what has happened. I should have shut them up. Too bad Jean didn’t use his knife instead of his hands on them!”
“Or his feet!” added McCain. “The Husky says he put one Lelac out of business with a kick and choked the old man unconscious, when the one who was knocked into the river stabbed him. He fought them with his bare hands. I take off my hat to Jean Marcel.” ”

“ As he struggled with renunciation, he brought himself to realize that, after all, it had been but presumption on his part to hope that this girl with her education of years in a Quebec convent, her acquaintance with the ways of the great world “outside,” should look upon a humble company hunter as a possible husband. ”

“ Wallace,” rasped Gillies, “that Marcel fought them with his hands, until he was cut, one man against three. If he had used his knife on the old man, he wouldn’t have been hurt. Does that prove what we’ve told you about him?”
It was at this point that Julie Breton and her brother, late in hearing the news, reached Jules carrying his burden, whose bandages were now reddening with blood.
“Oh, Jules, is he badly hurt?” cried the girl, peering in the dusk at the ashen face of Marcel. Then she noticed the bandages and, putting her hands to her face, moaned: “Jean Marcel, what have they done to you ”