ow old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Sixteen years old, and don't smoke! Why, where was you raised?"

"In the East," answered Herbert, smiling.

"Why, I smoked before I was three foot high, I was goin' to say. I
couldn't get along without smokin'."

"Nor I without reading."

"Well, folks will have their different tastes, I allow. I reckon I'll be
goin' back."

"Shan't you bury him?" asked Herbert, with a glance at the dead Indian.

"No; he wouldn't have buried me."

"But you won't leave him here? If you'll bury him, I'll help you."

"Not now, boy. Since you make a point of it, I'll come round to-morrow,
and dig a hole to put him in. I'll take the liberty of carryin' home his
shootin' iron. He won't need it where he's gone."

The two parted in a friendly manner, and Herbert turned his face
homeward, grave and thoughtful.

CHAPTER XXXII. THE BLAZING STAR MINE.

Toward noon the next day George Melville and Herbert were resting from a
country trip, sitting on a rude wooden settee which our hero had made of
some superfluous boards, and placed directly in front of the house, when
a figure was seen approaching with long strides from the shadow of the
neighboring woods. It was not until he was close at hand that Herbert
espied him.

"Why, it's Mr. Holden!" he exclaimed.

"Jack Holden, my lad," said the hunter, correcting him. "Is this the man
you're living with?"

Jack Holden was unconventional, and had been brought up in a rude school
so far as manners were concerned. It did not occur to him that his
question might have been better framed.

"I am Mr. Melville," answered that gentleman, seeing that Herbert looked
embarrassed. "Herbert is my constant and valued companion."

"He's a trump, that boy!" continued Holden. "Why, if it hadn't been for
him, there'd been an end of Jack Holden yesterday."

"Herbert told me about it. It was indeed a tragic affair. The sacrifice
of life is deplorable, but seemed to have been necessary, unless,
indeed, you could have disabled him."

"Disabled him!" echoed the hunter. "That wouldn't have answered by a
long shot. As soon as the reptile got well he'd have been on my trail
ag'in. No, sir; it was my life or his, and I don't complain of the way
things turned out."

"Have you buried him?" asked Herbert.

"Yes, I've shoved him under, and it's better than he deserved, the
sneakin' rascal. I'm glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Melville.
Didn't know I had changed neig