lay fully six feet deep where the wind had not drifted it away.

A full hour before sunset Dick and Ed, in high good humour at the
prospect of the holiday they had planned, arrived at the river tilt.
They came together expecting to find Bob and Bill awaiting them there,
but the shack was empty.

"We'll be havin' th' tilt snug an' warm for th' lads when they comes,"
said Dick, as he went briskly to work to build a fire in the stove
"You get some ice t' melt for th' tea, Ed. Th' lads'll be handy t'
gettin' in now, an' when they comes supper'll be pipin' hot for un."

Ed took an axe and a pail to the river where he chopped out pieces of
fine, clear ice with which to fill the kettle. When he came back Dick
had a roaring fire and was busy preparing partridges to boil.

Pretty soon Bill arrived, and they gave him an uproarious greeting. It
was the first time Bill and Ed had met since they came to their trails
in the fall, and the two friends were as glad to see each other as
though they had been separated for years.

"An' how be un now, Bill, an' how's th' fur?" asked Ed when they were
seated.

"Fine," replied Bill. "Fur's been fine th' year. I has more by now 'an
I gets all o' last season, an' one silver too."

"A silver? An' be he a good un?"

"Not so bad. He's a little gray on th' rump, but not enough t' hurt un
much."

"Well, now, you be doin' fine. I finds un not so bad, too--about th'
best year I ever has, but one. That were twelve year ago, an' I gets
a rare lot o' fur that year--a rare lot--but I'm not catchin' all of
un myself. I gets most of un from th' Injuns."

"An' how were un doin' that now?" asked Bill.

"Now don't be tellin' that yarn agin," broke in Dick. "Sure Bill's
heard un--leastways he must 'a' heard un."

"No, I never heard un," said Bill.

"An' ain't been missin' much then. 'Tis just one o' Ed's yarns, an' no
truth in un."

"'Tis no yarn. 'Tis true, an' I could prove un by th' Injuns.
Leastways I could if I knew where un were, but none o' that crowd o'
Injuns comes this way these days."

"What were the yarn, now?" asked Bill.

"I says 'tis no yarn. 'Tis what happened t' me," asserted Ed, assuming
a much injured air. "As I were sayin', 'twere a frosty evenin' twelve
year ago. I were comin' t' my lower tilt, an' when I gets handy t' un
what does I see but a big band o' mountaineers around th' tilt. Th'
mountaineers was not always friendly in those times as they be now,
an' I makes up