highest that is in me. But I shall show them a thing or two, if I am
not much mistaken."

Springing lightly to his feet, he continued his journey. His step was
more buoyant, his heart lighter, and the pack seemed less heavy than
when he left the river.

He travelled all that afternoon, crossed the summit, and moved swiftly
down the opposite slope. It was easy walking now, and he hoped to
reach the valley and there spend the night. He believed that he should
find water among that heavy timber ahead of him, and thither he made
his way. Neither was he mistaken, for when his steps at length began
to lag he heard the ripple of water drifting up the trail. As he drew
nearer he smelled the smoke of a camp-fire, and the appetizing odor of
roasting meat. "Somebody must be camping there," he mused, "and I may
have company. I am sorry, but then it can't be helped."

The brook was a small one, shallow, and Reynolds easily sprang across.
Gaining the opposite bank, he peered among the trees, and to his
surprise he saw Frontier Samson squatting upon the ground, roasting a
grouse over a fire he had previously lighted. The old prospector's
face brightened as the young man approached.

"My, y've been a long time comin'," he accosted. "I thought mebbe ye'd
played out, tumbled down the side of the mountain, or a grizzly had
gobbled ye up. What in time kept ye so long?"

"And where in the world did you come from?" Reynolds asked in reply, as
he unslung his pack and tossed it aside. "I never expected to meet you
here."