ts if any one had expressed wonder of it. He knew
no self-pity or sentimentality, only the knowledge that he did not
desire that his young buddy should be shot full of holes in the first
moment of play. The only fear that had visited him was that Ben might
catch on and not let him go. And now he could scarcely restrain his
triumphant chuckles in Ben's hearing.

Fie made his pack--a few simple provisions wrapped in his blanket--and a
knife and camp axe swung on his belt. He took his trusted pipe--because
he knew well that he could never acquit himself creditably in a fight
without a few lungfuls of tobacco smoke first--and he also took his
rifle. "You'll be gettin' my brother's gun when you get to Snowy Gulch,"
he explained, "and I may see game on the way out. And you keep this copy
of the letter." He handed Ben the copy he had made of Hiram's will. "I'm
the worst hand for losin' things you ever seen."

"You're sure you've got the directions straight?"

"Sure.--And I guess that's all."

They said their simple good-bys, shaking hands over a pile of stores.
"I've only got one decent place to keep things safe," Ezra confided,
"and that ain't so all-fired decent, either. When I get any papers that
are extra precious, I always stick 'em down the leg of these high old
boots, between the sock and the leather. But it's too much work to take
the boot off now, so you keep the letter."

"I suppose you've got a million-dollar bank note hidden down there now,"
Ben remarked.

"No, not a cent. Just the same, if ever I get shuffled off all of a
sudden--rollin' down one of these mountains, say--I want you to look
there mighty careful. There may be a document or two of
importance--letter to my old home, and all that."

"I won't forget," Ben promised.

"See that you don't." They shook hands again, lightly and happily. "So
good-by, son, and--'_take keer of yerself_!'"

The old man turned away, and soon his withered figure vanished into the
thickets farther up the river. He was following a fairly well-worn moose
trail, and he went swiftly. Soon he was out of hearing of the sound of
the great river.

Then the little woods people--marten and ermine and rodent and such
other small forest creatures that--who can say?--might watch with
exceeding interest the travelers on the trails, could have thought that
old Ezram was already fatigued. He sat down beside a tree and drew a
soiled sheet of paper from his pocket. Searching further he f