was close by at the time
of the quarrel over the Horse-trade. There was much that explained
itself and much of mystery that remained.

But one thing was clear. Caleb had been tricked out of everything he
had in the world, for it was just a question of days now before Pogue
would, in spite of Saryann, throw off all pretense and order Caleb
from the place to shift for himself.

Raften sat a long time thinking, then said:

"Caleb, you do exactly as Oi tell ye and ye'll get yer farrum back.
First, Oi'll lend ye wan thousand dollars for wan week."

_A thousand dollars!!!_ Caleb's eyes opened, and what was next he
did not then learn, for the boys came back and interrupted, but later
the old Trapper was fully instructed.

When Mrs. Raften heard of it she was thunderstruck. A thousand dollars
in Sanger was like one hundred thousand dollars in a big city. It was
untold wealth, and Mrs. Raften fairly gasped.

"A thousand dollars, William! Why! isn't that a heavy strain to put on
the honesty of a man who thinks still that he has some claim on you?
Is it safe to risk it?"

"Pooh!" said William. "Oi'm no money-lender, nor spring gosling
nayther. Thayer's the money Oi'll lend him," and Raften produced a
roll of counterfeit bills that he as magistrate had happened to have
in temporary custody. "Thayer's maybe five hundred or six hundred
dollars, but it's near enough."

Caleb, however, was allowed to think it real money, and fully
prepared, he called at his own--the Pogue house--the next day,
knocked, and walked in.

"Good morning, father," said Saryann, for she had some decency and
kindness.

"What do you want here?" said Dick savagely; "bad enough to have you
on the place, without forcing yerself on us day and night."

"Hush now, Dick; you forget--"

"Forget--I don't forget nothin'," retorted Dick, interrupting his
wife. "He had to help with the chores an' work, an' he don't do a
thing and expects to live on me."

"Oh, well, you won't have me long to bother you," said Caleb sadly,
as he tottered to a chair. His face was white and he looked sick and
shaky.

"What's the matter, father?"

"Oh, I'm pretty bad. I won't last much longer You'll be quit o' me
before many days."

"Big loss!" grumbled Dick.

"I--I give you my farm an' everything I had--"

"Oh, shut up. I'm sick of hearing about it."

"At least--'most--everything. I--I--I--didn't say nothing about a
little wad o'--o'--bills I had stored away. I--I--"