eat, and I'll tell you all about it, Uncle Tom," she said, and,
seating herself at the table also, she told him the story of the man who
must go to Bindon.

When she had finished, the old man blinked at her for a minute without
speaking, then he said, slowly: "I heard something 'bout trouble down at
Bindon yisterday from a Hudson's Bay man goin' North, but I didn't take it
in. You've got a lot o' sense, Jinny, an' if you think he's tellin' the
truth, why, it goes; but it's as big a mixup as a lariat in a steer's
horns. You've got to hide him sure, whoever he is, for I wouldn't hand an
Eskimo over, if I'd taken him in my home once; we're mountain people. A
man ought to be hung for horse-stealin', but this was different. He was
doing it to save a man's life, an' that man at Bindon was good to his
little gal, an' she's dead."

He moved his head from side to side with the air of a sentimental
philosopher. He had all the vanity of a man who had been a success in a
small, shrewd, culpable way--had he not evaded the law for thirty years
with his whiskey-still?

"I know how he felt," he continued. "When Betsy died--we was only four
years married--I could have crawled into a knot-hole an' died there. You
got to save him, Jinny, but"--he came suddenly to his feet--"he ain't safe
here. They might come any minute, if they've got back on his trail. I'll
take him up the gorge. You know where."

"You sit still, Uncle Tom," she rejoined. "Leave him where he is a minute.
There's things must be settled first. They ain't going to look for him in
my bedroom, be they?"

The old man chuckled. "I'd like to see 'em at it. You got a temper, Jinny;
and you got a pistol, too, eh?" He chuckled again. "As good a shot as any
in the mountains. I can see you darin' 'em to come on. But what if Jake
come, and he found a man in your bedroom"--he wiped the tears of laughter
from his eyes--"why, Jinny--"

He stopped short, for there was anger in her face. "I don't want to hear
any more of that. I do what I want to do," she snapped out.

"Well, well, you always done what you wanted; but we got to git him up the
hills, till it's sure they're out o' the mountains and gone back. It'll be
days, mebbe."

"Uncle Tom, you've took too much to drink," she answered. "You don't
remember he's got to be at Bindon by to-morrow noon. He's got to save his
friend by then."

"Pshaw! Who's going to take him down the river to-night? You're goin' to
be married to-mo