ual things that marked the members of her Bible class.

While she was planning how to reach him once more, an event occurred
which brought him nearer to her than he had ever been before. As they
were sitting one evening at tea, the door unexpectedly opened, and
without announcement, in walked Ranald, splashed with hard riding, pale,
and dazed. Without a word of reply to the greetings that met him from
all at the table, he went straight to the minister's wife, handed her
an opened letter, and stood waiting. It was addressed to Ranald himself,
and was the first he had ever received in his life. It was from Yankee
Jim, and read as follows:

Dear Ranald--The Boss aint feelin like ritin much and the rest of the
boys is all broke up, and so he told me to rite to you and to tell you
some purty bad news. I don't know how to go about it, but the fact is,
Mack Cameron got drownded yesterday tryin to pull a little fool of a
Frenchman out of the river just below the Lachine. We'd just got through
the rough water and were lyin nice and quiet, gettin things together
again when that ijit Frenchman got tite and got tryin some fool trick or
other walking a timber stick and got upsot into the wet. I'd a let him
go, you bet, but Mack cudn't stand to see him bobbin up and down so he
ripped off and in after him. He got him too, but somehow the varmint
gripped him round the neck. They went down but we got em out purty
quick and the Frenchman come round all right, but somehow Mack wouldn't,
choked appearinly by that tarnel little fool who aint worth one of
Mack's fingers, and if killin him wud do any good, then he wudn't be
livin long. We are all feelin purty bad. We are comin' home on Thursday
by Cornwall, eight or ten of us. The rest will go on with the rafts. The
Boss says, better have rigs to meet us and Mack. That's all. I haint
no good at weepin', never was, wish I cud somehow, it might ease off a
feller a little, but tell you what, Ranald, I haint felt so queer since
I was a boy lookin at my mother in her coffin. There was nothin mean
about Mack. He was good to the heart. He wud do his work slick and never
a growl or a groan, and when you wanted a feller to your back, Mack was
there. I know there aint no use goin on like this. All I say is, ther's
a purty big hole in the world for us to-night. Boss says you'd better
tell the minister. He says he's good stuff and he'll know what to do at
Mack's home. No more at present. Good-bye. Your