hat the nigh horse had died
was no fault of Bergstein's, since he and the boys at the lower shanty
had evidently done everything that could be done. What pleased him
most was Bergstein's humane and untiring efforts to save the poor
beast, adding that he had decided to order him to leave for Montreal
at once with instructions to purchase another horse, together with
some other things, amounting to over three thousand dollars in
all, which were badly needed. He liked, too, his quick return from
Canada--this showed his interest in his work.

An hour later the two, with Bergstein, stood on the veranda before the
latter's departure.

"Is there anything else you can think of that we need, Billy?" Thayor
asked.

"That's about all I can think of," returned Holcomb, glancing over the
long list that Bergstein held in his hand.

"He was a hard-working man," Bergstein casually remarked, referring to
the uncle who had so suddenly succumbed. There was nothing to lead up
to it, but that was a way with Bergstein. As he spoke he folded the
list and tucked it into his black portfolio.

"Married?" asked Thayor.

"Yes, and to as nice a little woman as you ever see, Mr. Thayor.
He ain't left her much, not more than will keep her out of the
poor-house." Bergstein's voice had grown as soft as an Oriental's.
"I buried him at my own expense. It's hard on her--she's got a little
girl who was always ailin'--sickly from the first." He fumbled at his
scrubby black beard, his rat-like eyes focussed on the ground.

"One moment, Mr. Bergstein," said Thayor, suddenly turning on his heel
and going into the house. Presently he returned and handed Bergstein
an unsealed white envelope. "Will you kindly give this to the mother
and the little girl," he said. "You will oblige me by not saying whom
it is from."

"Well, now, that's mighty good of you, Mr. Thayor," Bergstein
faltered; "she'll--"

"I trust you will have a pleasant journey," returned Thayor and with
a nod to Billy the two disappeared through the door of Thayor's den,
before the man with the scrubby beard could finish his sentence.

Bergstein tucked the envelope within the black portfolio and went down
the steps to the buckboard waiting to take him out to the railroad.
The boy Jimmy drove, Bergstein taking the back seat. He waited until
they were well into the stretch of wood between the camp and the lower
shanty, then he hurriedly extracted the envelope and glanced within.
It contain