though I've generally made a mess of things because I can't keep my
mind on anything. My head goes round like a top. Half the time I'm in
a daze. I feel as if I was going crazy. I don't know what is the
matter with me!"

"Twenty-five years old," murmured Peter; "in the pink of condition!
I'm telling you what's the matter with you. It's a plain case of June
fever. Ask any of the fellows up here."

"What am I going to do?" said Ambrose. "As it is, I work till I'm
ready to drop."

"I mind when I had it," said Peter, "I came to a camp of French
half-breeds on Musquasepi, and I saw Eva Lajeunesse for the first time.
It was like a blow between the eyes. You do not know what she looked
like then. I didn't think about it this way or that; I just up and
married her. I was glad to get her!

"Man to man I'll not deny I ain't been sorry sometimes," he went on;
"who ain't, sometimes? But, on the whole, after all these years, how
could I have done any better? She's good enough for me. A man worries
about his children sometimes; but I guess if they go straight there's a
place for them, though they are dusky. Eva, she has her bad points,
but she's been real good to me. How can I be but grateful!"

This was a rare and unusual confidence for Peter to offer his young
partner. Ambrose, flattered and embarrassed, did not know what to say,
and said nothing.

He was right, for if he had referred to it, Peter would have been