r and wider apart. May God bless you and give you a good
hus--give you happiness in His own way! And now I have the world before
me where to choose. It is a wide world, and there is much work to be
done. Surely I shall be led in the right way to fill the niche which
has been set apart for me. I wonder what it is to be! Am I to hunt for
gold, or to become a fur-trader, or go down to the plains and turn
cattle-dealer, or to the coast and become a sailor, or try farming? One
thing is certain, I must not be an idler; must not join the ranks of
those who merely hunt that they may eat and sleep, and who eat and sleep
that they may hunt. I have a work to do for Him who bought me with His
precious blood, and my first step must be to commit my way to Him."

Tom Brixton took that step at once. He knelt down on a mossy bank, and
there, with the glorious prospect of the beautiful wilderness before
him, and the setting sun irradiating his still haggard countenance, held
communion with God.

That night he made his lonely bivouac under a spreading pine, and that
night while he was enjoying a profound and health-giving slumber, the
robber-chief stepped into his encampment and laid his hand roughly on
his shoulder.

In his days of high health Tom would certainly have leaped up and given
Stalker a considerable amount of trouble, but starvation and weakness,
coupled with self-condemnation and sorrow, had subdued his nerves and
abated his energies, so that, when he opened his eyes and found himself
surrounded by as disagreeable a set of cut-throats as could well be
brought together, he at once resigned himself to his fate, and said,
without rising, and with one of his half-humorous smiles--

"Well, Mister Botanist, sorry I can't say it gives me pleasure to see
you. I wonder you're not ashamed to return to the country of the great
chief Unaco after running away from him as you did."

"I'm in no humour for joking," answered Stalker, gruffly. "What has
become of your friend Paul Bevan?"

"I'm not aware that anything particular has become of him," replied Tom,
sitting up with a look of affected surprise.

"Come, you know what I mean. Where is he?"

"When I last saw him he was in Oregon. Whether he has now gone to
Europe or the moon or the sun I cannot tell, but I should think it
unlikely."

"If you don't give me a direct and civil answer I'll roast you alive,
you young puppy!" growled Stalker.

"If you roast me dead in