t could be seen of him. I simply _felt_
and _knew_ that he would refuse pay. Whether this was due to intuition,
instinct or some subtle principle of mind communication, I do not
profess to know and I do not say, but the fact was that I did not think
or believe--I _knew_, and those inclined to account for the fact will
find this point of interest to them.

"What would you have said, Swiggett, if he had named a price?" asked
Miller.

"But he didn't, Miller," I responded; "and he wasn't suspicious."

"But if he had been?"

"How can I tell? It would have depended on circumstances. My experience
is that one can never, or very seldom, carry out imaginary conversation,
and I never try to hamper myself unnecessarily by pre-arranged ideas."

[Illustration: CAPT. B. F. MILLER.]

These conversations are related simply to show how easy it is to
overcome many seeming difficulties. We can figure and calculate all
we will in advance, but it almost invariably happens that the details of
our plans must be changed on the scene of action, either to surmount
unexpected obstacles or to take the shortest and surest road to success.
The best way to dispose of obstacles is to go at them. Many and most
disappear before you reach them, while those which really have to be
surmounted are usually ridden over on lines suggested at the time of
meeting.

In crossing the river we had given the ferryman no time to ask
questions, even had he been disposed to do so, and I had asked the way
to Arkadelphia, learning the direction to take and that the distance was
fifty-two miles, on a plain road.

As usual, after the river was crossed, Miller was jubilant and happy
until he had time to begin worrying about the next river, which he soon
did. If my friend worries as much about crossing the final river as he
did about crossing earthly rivers in our travels together it may be that
he will have to cross much sooner than he otherwise would.

It must not be understood that my illustrations of Miller's
peculiarities are made in disparagement of the man. We all have our own
peculiar traits of character, and it merely happened that this journey
developed in Miller some phases of a disposition that in other things
would have had more than compensating merits. He was simply more
cautious than is usual in men, and so exceedingly honest that it was
impossible for him to dissimulate. A tall, fine-looking gentleman, with
dignified bearing, and the very embod