When Sam went home that morning it was with a very clear purpose.
He had gone straight to his mother and told all he knew about the
revolver and the misunderstanding with Caleb, and they two had had a
long, unsatisfactory interview with the father. Raften was brutal and
outspoken as usual. Mrs. Raften was calm and clear-witted. Sam was
shrewd. The result was a complete defeat for William--a defeat that he
would not acknowledge; and Sam came back to camp disappointed for the
time being, but now to witness the very thing he had been striving
for--his father and the Trapper reconciled; deadly enemies two hours
ago, but now made friends through a fight. Though overpowered in
argument, Raften's rancour was not abated, but rather increased toward
the man he had evidently misused, until the balance was turned by the
chance of his helping that man in a time of direst straits.

XXVI

WINNING BACK THE FARM

Oh, the magic of the campfire! No unkind feeling long withstands its
glow. For men to meet at the same campfire is to come closer, to have
better understanding of each other, and to lay the foundations of
lasting friendship. "He and I camped together once!" is enough to
explain all cordiality between the men most wide apart, and Woodcraft
days are days of memories happy, bright and lifelong.

To sit at the same camp fireside has always been a sacred bond, and
the scene of twenty years before was now renewed in the Raften woods,
thanks to that campfire lit a month before--the sacred fire. How well
it had been named! William and Caleb were camped together in good
fellowship again, marred though it was with awkwardness as yet, but
still good fellowship.

Raften was a magistrate. He sent Sam with an order to the constable
to come for the prisoner. Yan went to the house for provisions and to
bring Mrs. Raften, and Guy went home with an astonishing account of
his latest glorious doings. The tramp desperado was securely fastened
to a tree; Caleb was in the teepee lying down. Raften went in for a
few minutes, and when he came out the tramp was gone. His bonds were
cut, not slipped. How could he nave gotten away without help?

"Never mind," said Raften. "That three-fingered hand is aisy to
follow. Caleb, ain't that Bill Hennard?"

"I reckon."

The men had a long talk. Caleb told of the loss of his revolver--he
was still living in the house with the Pogues then--and of its
recovery. They both remembered that Hennard