Trenton was no ladies' man. The presence of women always disconcerted
him, and made him feel awkward and boorish. He had been too much of a
student in higher art to acquire the smaller art of the drawing-room. He
felt ill at ease in society, and seemed to have a fatal predilection
for saying the wrong thing, and suffered the torture afterwards of
remembering what the right thing would have been.

Trenton stood at the gate for a moment, hoping Mason would come.
Suddenly he remembered with confusion that he was directly in range of
those disdainful eyes in the parlour, and he beat a hasty retreat toward
the old mill that stood by the falls. The roar of the turbulent water
over the granite rocks had a soothing effect on the soul of the man who
knew he was a criminal, yet could not for the life of him tell what his
crime had been. Then he wandered up the river-bank toward where he saw
the two half-breeds placing the canoe in the still water at the further
end of the village. Half-way there he was relieved to meet the genial
Ed. Mason, who greeted him, as Trenton thought, with a somewhat
overwrought effusion. There evidently was something on the genial Ed.'s
mind.

"Hello, old man," he cried, shaking Trenton warmly by the hand. "Been
here long? Well, I declare, I'm glad to see you. Going to have a
splendid day for it, aren't you? Yes, sir, I _am_ glad to see you."

"When a man says that twice in one breath, a fellow begins to doubt him.
Now, you good-natured humbug, what's the matter? What have I done? How
did you find me out? Who turned Queen's evidence? Look here, Edward
Mason, why are you _not_ glad to see me?"

"Nonsense; you know I am. No one could be more welcome. By the way, my