ybe he was encouraged--but not by her."

"Who then?"

There was unmistakable derision in the wood-cutter's tone. Seth shrugged.
A shadowy smile played round his lips, but his eyes were quite serious.

"That's it," he said, relapsing into his reflective manner, "the whole
thing's mighty curious. Them law fellers in your country are smartish.
They've located a deal. Don't jest know how. They figger that uncle feller
is around either this State or Minnesota--likely this one, seein' the
Colonel was comin' this aways when he got killed. We got yarnin', an' he
was sayin' he thought o' huntin' out this uncle. I guessed ther' wa'an't
much need, an' it might set him wantin' the dollars. The law feller said
he wouldn't get 'em anyhow--'cep' the gal was dead. We kind o' left it at
that. Y' see the whole thing for the uncle hung around that gal--bein'
dead."

"And you think he might have had something----" Nevil's words came slowly,
like a man who realizes the danger of saying too much.

"Wal, it don't seem possible, I guess. Them two was killed by the Injuns,
sure. An' she--I guess she ain't never seen him."

A slight sigh escaped Nevil.

"That's so," he said deliberately.

"Howsum, I guess I'm goin' to look around for this feller. Y' see
Rosebud's li'ble to like him. Mebbe he ain't well heeled for dollars, an'
she's that tender-hearted she might--I've got his pictur'. Mebbe I'll show
it around--eh, what's up?" Seth inquired in his blandest tone.

Nevil suddenly sat up and there was a desperate look in his eyes. But he
controlled himself, and, with an effort, spoke indifferently.

"Nothing. I want another pipe."

"Ah." Seth fumbled through his pockets, talking the while. "The pictur'
was took when he was most a boy. His hair was thick an' he hadn't no
moustache nor nothin', which kind o' makes things hard. As I was sayin',
I'm goin' to show it around some, an' maybe some one 'll rec'nize the
feller. That's why I got yarnin' to you. Mebbe you ken locate him."

As he said the last word he drew a photograph from his pocket and thrust
it into Nevil's hand.

The wood-cutter took it with a great assumption of indifference, and found
himself looking down on a result of early photographic art. It was the
picture of a very young man with an overshot mouth and a thin, narrow
face. But, as Seth had said, he wore no moustache, and his hair was still
thick.

Nevil looked long at that picture, and once or twice he licked his lip