erous progeny of
outbuildings, among which the dwelling held a dubious headship. But here,
they could be the Boy Trappers--a thin fringe of bushes and trees made of
the little valley a forest to the imagination of the boys. Newton put down
his load, and sat upon a stump to rest.

Raymond Simms was dimly conscious of a change in Newton since the day when
they met and helped select Colonel Woodruff's next year's seed corn.
Newton's mother had a mother's confidence that Newton was now a good boy,
who had been led astray by other boys, but had reformed. Jim Irwin had a
distinct feeling of optimism. Newton had quit tobacco and beer, casually
stating to Jim that he was "in training." Since Jim had shown his ability
to administer a knockout to that angry chauffeur, he seemed to this
hobbledehoy peculiarly a proper person for athletic confidences. Newton's
mind seemed gradually filling up with interests that displaced the
psychological complex out of which oozed the bad stories and filthy
allusion. Jim attributed much of this to the clear mountain atmosphere
which surrounded Raymond Simms, the ignorant barbarian driven out of his
native hills by a feud. Raymond was of the open spaces, and refused to
hear fetid things that seemed out of place in them. There was a dignity
which impressed Newton, in the blank gaze with which Raymond greeted
Newton's sallies that were wont to set the village pool room in a roar;
but how could you have a fuss with a feller who knew all about trapping,
who had seen a man shot, who had shot a bear, who had killed wild turkeys,
who had trapped a hundred dollars' worth of furs in one winter, who knew
the proper "sets" for all fur-bearing animals, and whom you liked, and who
liked you?

As the reason for Newton's improvement in manner of living, Raymond, out
of his own experience, would have had no hesitation in naming the school
and the schoolmaster.

"I wouldn't go back on a friend," said Newton, seated on the stump with
his traps on the ground at his feet, "the way you're going back on me."

"You got no call to talk thataway," replied the mountain boy. "How'm I
goin' back on you?"

"We was goin' to trap all winter," asseverated Newton, "and next winter we
were goin' up in the north woods together."

"You know," said Raymond somberly, "that we cain't run any trap line and
do whut we got to do to he'p Mr. Jim."

Newton sat mute as one having no rejoinder.

"Mr. Jim," went on Raymond, "needs all