n he exploded with a sudden curse.
"SORRY! What the devil you sorry for, Johnny? You treated her square,
an' you left her almost all of Conniston's money. She ain't no kick
comin', and she ain't no reason for feelin' like she does. Let 'er go
to the devil, I say. She's pretty an' sweet an' all that--but when
anybody wants to go clawin' your heart out, don't be fool enough to
feel sorry about it. You lied to her, but what's that? There's bigger
lies than yourn been told, Johnny, a whole sight bigger! Don't you go
worryin'. I've been here waitin' six weeks, an' I've done a lot of
thinkin', and all our plans are set an' hatched. An' I've got the
nicest cabin all built and waitin' for us up the Little Fork. Here we
are. Let's be joyful, son!" He laughed into Keith's tense, gray face.
"Let's be joyful!"

Keith forced a grin. Duggan didn't know. He hadn't guessed what that
"little tiger who would have liked to have bit open his throat" had
been to him. The thick-headed old hero, loyal to the bottom of his
soul, hadn't guessed. And it came to Keith then that he would never
tell him. He would keep that secret. He would bury it in his burned-out
soul, and he would be "joyful" if he could. Duggan's blazing, happy
face, half buried in its great beard, was like the inspiration and
cheer of a sun rising on a dark world. He was not alone. Duggan, the
old Duggan of years ago, the Duggan who had planned and dreamed with
him, his best friend, was with him now, and the light came back into
his face as he looked toward the mountains. Off there, only a few miles
distant, was the Little Fork, winding into the heart of the Rockies,
seeking out its hidden valleys, its trailless canons, its hidden
mysteries. Life lay ahead of him, life with its thrill and adventure,
and at his side was the friend of all friends to seek it with him. He
thrust out his hands.

"God bless you, Andy," he cried. "You're the gamest pal that ever
lived!"

A moment later Duggan pointed to a clump of timber half a mile ahead.
"It's past dinner-time," he said. "There's wood. If you've got any
bacon aboard, I move we eat."

An hour later Andy was demonstrating that his appetite was as voracious
as ever. Before describing more of his own activities, he insisted that
Keith recite his adventures from the night "he killed that old skunk,
Kirkstone."

It was two o'clock when they resumed their journey. An hour later they
struck the Little Fork and until seven traveled u