te away from the subject
of bear. Then suddenly he would shift shotgun for rifle and come home
with a bearskin in the wagon. Probably he would bring partridge, too,
for he never neglected by-products.

"Them fellows," said he to himself, referring to Messrs. Crane and
Keith, "hain't aimin' nor wishin' to pay me no sixty cents a thousand
for drivin' their logs.... I figger they calculate to cut about ten
million feet. That'll be six thousand dollars. Profit maybe two
thousand. Don't see as I kin afford to lose it, seems as though."

On the river below Coldriver village were three hamlets each consisting
of a general store, a church, and a few scattered dwellings. These
villages were the supply centers for the mountain farms that lay behind
them. Necessity had located them, for nowhere else along the valley was
there flat land upon which even the tiniest village could find a resting
place. These were Bailey, Tupper Falls, and Higgins's Bridge. In common
with Coldriver village their communication with the world was by means
of a stage line consisting of two so-called stages, one of which left
Coldriver in the morning on the downward trip, the other of which left
the mouth of the valley on the upward trip. There was also one freight
wagon.

The morning following Scattergood's second anniversary in the region, he
boarded the stage, occupying so much space therein that a single fare
failed utterly to show a profit to the stage line, and alighted at
Bailey. He went directly to the store, where no one was to be found save
sharp-featured Mrs. Bailey, wife of the proprietor.

"Mornin', ma'am," said Scattergood, politely. "Husband hain't in?"

"Up the brook, catchin' a mess of trout," she responded, shortly. "He's
always catchin' a mess of trout, or huntin' a deer or a partridge or
somethin'. If you're ever aimin' to see Jim Bailey here, you want to
git around afore daylight or after dark."

"Hain't it lucky," said Scattergood, "that some men manages to marry
wimmin that kin look after their business?"

"Not for the wimmin," said Mrs. Bailey, shortly.

"My name's Baines," said Scattergood.

"I calculate to know _that_."

"Like livin' here, ma'am?"

"Not so but what I could bear a change."

"Um!... Mis' Bailey, I calc'late you'd hate to see Jim make a little
money so's to be able to git away from here if he wanted to."

"Him? Only way hell ever make money is to ketch a solid-gold trout."

"Maybe I'm the solid-gold