xton thrust both hands into his
trousers pockets, turned round on his heel, and, without uttering a
word, sauntered slowly away.

Fred Westly, in a bewildered frame of mind, followed his example, and
the two friends were soon lost to view--swallowed up, as it were, by the
Oregon wilderness.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

After walking through the woods a considerable distance in perfect
silence--for the suddenness of the disaster seemed to have bereft the
two friends of speech--Tom Brixton turned abruptly and said--

"Well, Fred, we're in a nice fix now. What is to be our next move in
this interesting little game?"

Fred Westly shook his head with an air of profound perplexity, but said
nothing.

"I've a good mind," continued Tom, "to return to Pine Tree Diggings,
give myself up, and get hanged right off. It would be a good riddance
to the world at large, and would relieve me of a vast deal of trouble."

"There is a touch of selfishness in that speech, Tom--don't you think?--
for it would not relieve _me_ of trouble; to say nothing of your poor
mother!"

"You're right, Fred. D'you know, it strikes me that I'm a far more
selfish and despicable brute than I used to think myself."

He looked at his companion with a sad sort of smile; nevertheless, there
was a certain indefinable ring of sincerity in his tone.

"Tom," said the other, earnestly, "will you wait for me here for a few
minutes while I turn aside to pray?"

"Certainly, old boy," answered Tom, seating himself on a mossy bank.
"You know I cannot join you."

"I know you can't, Tom. It would be mockery to pray to One in whom you
don't believe; but as _I_ believe in God, the Bible, and prayer, you'll
excuse my detaining you, just for--"

"Say no more, Fred. Go; I shall wait here for you."

A slight shiver ran through Brixton's frame as he sat down, rested his
elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands.

"God help me!" he exclaimed, under a sudden impulse, "I've come down
_very_ low, God help me!"

Fred soon returned.

"You prayed for guidance, I suppose?" said Tom, as his friend sat down
beside him.

"I did."

"Well, what is the result?"

"There is no result as yet--except, of course, the calmer state of my
mind, now that I have committed our case into our Father's hands."

"_Your_ Father's, you mean."

"No, I mean _our_, for He is your father as well as mine, whether you
admit it or not. Jesus has bought you and paid for you, Tom, with His