"Oh, in many ways. I've fed and clothed you, though I guess you've earned
it all. But I've not thought enough about your mind--your education, I
mean. Besides, there are deeper and more serious things in life of which
I've told you nothing. I do feel mighty guilty when I think about it all."

"You've been good to me, though," and Dan looked inquiringly into his
father's face.

"Yes, in a way. But, then, haven't I been good to our old mare, Queen? I
feed and blanket her. But what more have I done for you--and you are my
own son? Now look here," he added, after a pause, "I'm willing to teach
you at nights how to read, and see if we can't make up for my past
neglect."

"Dad! D'you mean it?"

"There now, that'll do. No more talking. Let's off to bed, and we'll have
the first lesson to-morrow night."

The days that followed were busy ones for Dan. The shooting season closed,
but there was other work to do. The rabbits had to be snared and his
regular rounds made to the traps set for the wiry mink, lumbering raccoon,
and the wily fox. Each night, the animals brought in during the day had to
be skinned, and the pelts carefully stretched. Then when this had been
accomplished to his satisfaction he would turn his attention to his
studies.

His father was cutting cord-wood for a neighbour, and was able to get home
at night. Then the two pored over the mysterious letters and words in the