m the
chimney. Stephen smelled bacon frying, and coffee.

Christopher greeted him with the joyousness of a child. "Lord!" said
he, "did Myrtle send you up with all those things? Well, she is a good
woman. Guess I would have been cold last night if I hadn't been so
happy. How is Myrtle?"

"She seemed to take it very sensibly when I told her."

Christopher nodded happily and lovingly. "She would. She can understand
not understanding, and that is more than most women can. It was mighty
good of you to bring the things. You are in time for breakfast. Lord!
Mr. Wheaton, smell the trees, and there are blooms hidden somewhere that
smell sweet. Think of having the common food of man sweetened this way!
First time I fully sensed I was something more than just a man. Lord, I
am paid already. It won't be so very long before I get my fill, at this
rate, and then I can go back. To think I needn't plow to-day! To think
all I have to do is to have the spring! See the light under those
trees!"

Christopher spoke like a man in ecstasy. He tied the gray horse to a
tree and brought a pail of water for him from the spring near by.

Then he said to Stephen: "Come right in. The bacon's done, and the
coffee and the corn-cake and the eggs won't take a minute."

The two men entered the shack. There was nothing there except the little
cooking-stove, a few kitchen utensils hung on pegs on the walls, an old
table with a few dishes, two chairs, and a lounge over which was spread
an ancient buffalo-skin.

Stephen sat down, and Christopher fried the eggs. Then he bade the
minister draw up, and the two men breakfasted.

"Ain't it great, Mr. Wheaton?" said Christopher.

"You are a famous cook, Mr. Dodd," laughed Stephen. He was thoroughly
enjoying himself, and the breakfast was excellent.

"It ain't that," declared Christopher in his exalted voice. "It ain't
that, young man. It's because the food is blessed."

Stephen stayed all day on Silver Mountain. He and Christopher went
fishing, and had fried trout for dinner. He took some of the trout home
to Myrtle.

Myrtle received them with a sort of state which defied the imputation of
sadness. "Did he seem comfortable?" she asked.

"Comfortable, Mrs. Dodd? I believe it will mean a new lease of life to
your husband. He is an uncommon man."

"Yes, Christopher is uncommon; he always was," assented Myrtle.

"You have everything you want? You were not timid last night alone?"
asked the minister