and finally the clatter and hum began again. Dick led me outside, where we
were soon joined by Jim.

"He's holed up," suggested Dick.

"Shore. I don't take no stock in his hittin' the trail. He's layin' low."

"Let's look around a bit, anyhow."

Dick took me back to the cook's cabin and, bidding me remain inside, strode
away. I beard footsteps so soon after his departure that I made certain he
had returned, but the burly form which blocked the light in the cabin door
was not Dick's. I was astounded to recognize Buell.

"Hello!" he said, in his blustering voice. "Heard you had reached camp, an'
have been huntin' you up."

I greeted him pleasantly enough--more from surprise than from a desire to
mislead him. It seemed to me then that a child could have read Buell. He'd
an air of suppressed excitement; there was a glow on his face and a kind of
daring flash in his eyes. He seemed too eager, too glad to see me.

"I've got a good job for you," he went on, glibly. "jest what you want, an'
you're jest what I need. Come into my office an' help me. There'll be
plenty of outside work--measurin' lumber, markin' trees, an' such."

"Why, Mr. Buell--I--you see, Dick--he might not--"

I hesitated, not knowing how to proceed. But at my halting speech Buell
became even more smiling and voluble.