he exhaustion of his work on the river and the
excitement under which he was labouring. During this last half hour that
he had been working hard to save Steering, taking care of him, helping
him, he had had another revulsion of feeling that had swung him up close
to his hero again. But crisis was still following crisis in his
emotions.

"Well, you turned up at just the right minute for me, Piney. How did you
happen along?"

"Oh, I wuz a-huntin' fer you, I reckon. I wuz sent aout to hunt fer you.
I gotta letter fer you,--f'm--f'm Miss Madeira."

Steering opened his drowsy eyes and regarded Piney.

"Yes, I have. I gotta letter fer you. Y'see, Miss Sally, she's found
aout sumpin--sumpin that you didn' want her to find aout." The fire
leaped and crackled; Bruce leaned away from its scorch, nearer to Piney.
"Y'see, she knows abaout the Tigmores naow," went on Piney steadily.
"Unc' Bernique didn' tell her. I told her."

"Piney!" Steering, warm with wrath, turned upon Piney savagely, "You
little fool! You brutal little fool!" he cried fiercely. "It's a good
thing that you're just a boy, Piney--and you, _you_! profess to
love----"

"Mist' Steerin'." Piney had a man's dignity all in a minute. "I didn'
ast you fer no leave to tell her, an' I don't ast you fer nothin' naow.
But she had to know. I hearn Unc' Bernique tellin' you abaout that
Grierson letter. I hearn you read the letter. I hearn you an' Unc'
Bernique swear. Then I swore, too. Then I went an' told her. And then
she saw her father, an' she leffen it to her father to make things
right, an' he's made things right. She told me I wuz to tell you that.
She showed him that he was safe to keep the Tigmores if he wanted to
keep 'em, but he didn't want to keep 'em. She told me to tell you that.
An' she told me to give you this letter." Piney's young body rocked now
with a hushed, sobbing fervour; he lifted his peaked hat from his head,
took the letter from the inner band, and pushed it into Bruce's hand.
"This letter kim to her father a long time ago, and she ast me to ast
you to think of her father abaout it gentle as you can--an' I'm a-astin'
you to think of him gentle," the lad's voice suddenly rose shrilly, and
he jumped to his feet, "an' I'm _a-bustin'_ to have you say you won't
think of him gentle, er sumpin 'at I cayn't stan' an 'll hit you fer!
I'm jesta boy, Mist' Steerin', but good God!"

Bruce got to his feet, too. When he caught Piney's flaming eye at last,