strangely-assorted half-hundred of men now under his sole control. Frank
held him in profound respect, and would have endured almost anything
rather than seem unmanly or unheedful in his eyes. To win a word of
commendation from those firm-set lips that said so little was the desire
of his heart, and, feeling sure that it would come time enough, he stuck
to his work bravely, quite winning good-natured Baptiste's heart by his
prompt obedience to orders.

"You are a _bon garcon,_ Francois," he would say, patting his shoulder
with his plump palm. "Too good to be chore-boy; but not for long--eh,
Francois? You be chopper _bientot_, and then"--with an expressive wave of
his hand to indicate the rapid flight of time--"you'll be foreman, like
M'sieur Johnston, while Baptiste"--and the broad shoulders would rise
in that meaning shrug which only Frenchmen can achieve--"poor Baptiste
will be cook still."

Beginning with Johnston and Baptiste, Frank was rapidly making friends
among his companions, and as he was soon to learn, much to his surprise
and sorrow, some enemies too--or, rather, to be more correct, he was
making the friends, but the enemies were making themselves; for he was to
blame in small part, if at all, for their rising against him. There were
all sorts and conditions of men, so far at least as character and
disposition went, among the gang, and the evil element was fitly
represented by a small group of inhabitants who recognized one Damase
Deschenaux as their leader. This Damase made rather a striking figure.
Although he scorned the suggestion as hotly as would a Southern planter
the charge that negro blood darkened his veins, there was no doubt that
some generations back the dusky wife of a _courier du bois_ had mingled
the Indian nature with the French. Unhappily for Damase, the result of
his ancestral error was manifest in him; for, while bearing but little