eeds the money."

But the boy had now recovered his balance.

"But timber hauling would kill old Grey. He wouldn't last any time at
it; he's too old," he argued.

"That's so, sunny," said the foreman; "he sure can't last long at that
work, but don't you see Andy will have his money, even if the horse does
peg out?"

"But--but Grey will die," said the boy tremulously.

"Maybe," answered the foreman, "but Andy will have something to live on,
and that is more important."

"But I'll help Andy," cried the boy enthusiastically. "I'm used to the
lighting up now. I can do all the work. Can't the mill hands go on
paying him just the same as ever? Can't they, Andy? I'll do the
lamp-lighting for you, and we'll just keep old Grey. Won't you, Andy?
Won't you?"

The boy was at Andy's shoulder, his thin young fingers clutched the old
shirt-sleeve excitedly, his voice arose, high and shrill and earnest.

"Why, boy," said the old Frenchman, "I didn't know you cared so much.
_I_ don't want to sell Grey, and I _won't_ sell him if you help me with
my work for the mill hands."

Alick Duncan rose to his feet, his big, hearty laugh ringing out as
Jacky seized his hand with the words, "There, Mr. Duncan, Andy _won't_
sell Grey. He says so. You heard him."

The big foreman stooped, picked up the boy, and swung him on his
shoulder as if he had been a kitten.

"All right, little Jack o' Lantern, do as you like. We mill hands will
go on with Andy's pay, only you help him all you can--and maybe he'll
keep the old grey--just for luck."

"I _know_ it's for luck," laughed Jacky. "The grey knows so much. Why,
Mr. Duncan, he knows _everything_; he knows as much as the mill hands."

"I dare say," said the big foreman, dryly. "If he didn't he wouldn't
have even horse sense."

"But why do you call me that--'Jack o' Lantern'?" asked the boy from his
perch on the big man's shoulder.

"Because I thought the name suited you," smiled the foreman. "I've often
seen the little Jack o' Lantern hovering above the marshes and swales,
a dancing, pretty light, moving about to warn woodsmen of danger spots,
just as your lantern, Jacky, warns the rivermen of that nasty 'wildcat'
place in the river."

"But," said the boy, "dad has always told me that the Jack o' Lantern is
a foolish light, that it deceives people, that it misleads them, that
sometimes they follow it and then get swamped in the marshes."

"Yes, but folks know enough to _not_ follow yo