n'
I don't want no pay. I git comfort enough outen it, anyway."

Benedict turned, took and warmly pressed Jim's hand, and then they went
back to their dinner. After they had eaten, and Jim had sat down to his
pipe, he told his guests that they were to have visitors that night--a
man from the city and his little boy--and that they would spend a
fortnight with them. The news alarmed Mr. Benedict, for his nerves were
still weak, and it was a long time before he could be reconciled to the
thought of intrusion upon his solitude; but Jim reassured him by his
enthusiastic accounts of Mr. Balfour, and Harry was overjoyed with the
thought of having a companion in the strange lad.

"I thought I'd come home an' git ye ready," said Jim; "fur I knowed ye'd
feel bad to meet a gentleman in yer old poor-house fixin's. Burn 'em or
bury 'em as soon as I'm gone. I don't never want to see them things
agin."

Jim went off again down the river, and Mr. Benedict and Harry busied
themselves in cleaning the camp, and preparing Number Ten for the
reception of Mr. Balfour and his boy, having previously determined to
take up their abode with Jim for the winter. The latter had a hard
afternoon. He was tired with his night's tramp, and languid with loss of
sleep. When he arrived at the landing he found Mr. Balfour waiting. He
had passed Mike Conlin on the way, and even while they were talking the
Irishman came in sight. After half-an-hour of busy labor, the goods and
passengers were bestowed, Mike was paid for the transportation, and the
closing journeys of the day were begun.

When Jim had made half of the weary row up the river, he ran into a
little cove to rest and wipe the perspiration from his forehead. Then he
informed Mr. Balfour that he was not alone in the camp, and, in his own
inimitable way, having first enjoined the strictest secrecy, he told the
story of Mr. Benedict and his boy.

"Benedict will hunt and fish with ye better nor I can," said he, "an'
he's a better man nor I be any way; but I'm at yer sarvice, and ye shall
have the best time in the woods that I can give ye."

Then he enlarged upon the accomplishments of Benedict's boy.

"He favors yer boy a little," said Jim, eyeing the lad closely. "Dress
'em alike, and they wouldn't be a bad pair o' brothers."

Jim did not recognize the germs of change that existed in his accidental
remark, but he noticed that a shade of pain passed over the lawyer's
face.

"Where is the othe