g, slow journey the wounded man got back. All he
had prayed for was to get home. Every invalid is sure that if only he
can get home all will soon be well. Mother was not yet strong, the baby
needed much care, but Josh was a good boy, and the loving best of all
was done for the sick one. His leg, set by the army surgeon of Fort
Yellowstone, was knit again after a month, but had no power. He had no
force; the shock of those two dire days was on him. The second month
went by, and still he lay in bed. Poor Josh was the man of the place
now, and between duties, indoors and out, he was worn body and soul.

Then it was clear they must have help. So Jack S---- was engaged at the
regular wages of $40 a month for outside work, and a year of struggle
went by, only to see John Cree in his grave, his cattle nearly all gone,
his widow and boy living in a house on which was still $500 of the
original mortgage. Josh was a brave boy and growing strong, but
unboyishly grave with the weight of care. He sold off the few cattle
that were left, and set about keeping the roof over his mother and baby
sister by working a truck farm for the market supplied by the summer
hotels of the Park, and managed to come out even. He would in time have
done well, but he could not get far enough ahead to meet that 10 per
cent mortgage already overdue.

The banker was not a hard man, but he was in the business for the
business. He extended the time, and waited for interest again and again,
but it only made the principal larger, and it seemed that the last ditch
was reached, that it would be best to let the money-man foreclose,
though that must mean a wipe-out and would leave the fatherless family
homeless.

[Illustration]

Winter was coming on, work was scarce, and Josh went to Gardiner to see
what he could get in the way of house or wage. He learned of a chance to
'substitute' for the Park mail-carrier, who had sprained his foot. It
was an easy drive to Fort Yellowstone, and there he readily agreed, when
they asked him, to take the letters and packages and go on farther to
the Canyon Hotel. Thus it was that on the 20th day of November 189--,
Josh Cree, sixteen years old, tall and ruddy, rode through the snow to
the kitchen door of the Canyon Hotel and was welcomed as though he were
old Santa Claus himself.

[Illustration]

Two Magpies on a tree were among the onlookers. The Park Bears were
denned up, but there were other fur-bearers about. High on th