ere again for a
farm. I feel as weak as a sick baby. I couldn't stay another day."

"Well, that goes," said he. "It just fits in with my plans. I'm getting
Jim to come in, too. I've realised on that stuff I bought, made over
three thousand clear profit, and with it I've made a dicker for a
property on the bench above Bonanza, Gold Hill they call it. I've a
notion it's all right. Anyway, we'll tunnel in and see. You and Jim will
have a quarter share each for your work, while I'll have an extra
quarter for the capital I've put in. Is it a go?"

I said it was.

"Thought it would be. I've had the papers made out; you can sign right
now."

So I signed, and next day found us all three surveying our claim. We put
up a tent, but the first thing to do was to build a cabin. Right away we
began to level off the ground. The work was pleasant, and conducted in
such friendship that the time passed most happily. Indeed, my only worry
was about Berna. She had never ceased to be at the forefront of my mind.
I schooled myself into the belief that she was all right, but, thank
God, every moment was bringing her nearer to me.

One morning, when we were out in the woods cutting timber for the cabin,
I said to Jim:

"Did you ever hear anything more about that man Mosely?"

He stopped chopping, and lowered the axe he had poised aloft.

"No, boy; I've had no mail at all. Wait awhile."

He swung his axe with viciously forceful strokes. His cheery face had
become so downcast that I bitterly blamed myself for my want of tact.
However, the cloud soon passed.

About two days after that the Prodigal said to me:

"I saw your little guttersnipe friend to-day."

"Indeed, where?" I asked; for I had often thought of the Worm, thought
of him with fear and loathing.

"Well, sir, he was just getting the grandest dressing-down I ever saw a
man get. And do you know who was handing it to him--Locasto, no less."

He lit a cigarette and inhaled the smoke.

"I was just coming along the trail from the Forks when I suddenly heard
voices in the bush. The big man was saying:

"'Lookee here, Pat, you know if I just liked to say half a dozen words I
could land you in the penitentiary for the rest of your days.'

"Then the little man's wheedling voice:

"'Well, I did me best, Jack. I know I bungled the job, but youse don't
want to cast dem t'ings up to me. Dere's more dan me orter be in de
pen. Dere's no good in de pot callin' de kettle black, is d