tuffed into the tops of his boots, with a felt hat.

"I suppose, if I wore my black clothes, you would see no change at all
in me," replied the father. "But I will help you unload your flour,
Phil Farringford."

"I am in no hurry," I answered.

"Let us do it at once."

I handed the torch to Ella again, and we rolled the heavy barrel to the
ground.

"How funny it looks to see you doing such work, father!" said she,
laughing.

"But I am my own cook and my own servant. I chop my own wood, and shoot
my own dinner. You shall go to my island home to-morrow, and I think we
shall be very happy there."

"You needn't do anything more, Mr. Mellowtone," I interposed, when he
was going to help unload the rest of the goods. "You can go into the
house, and talk with your daughter."

"Why do you call him Mr. Mellowtone?" asked Ella. "That is not his
name."

"It is the name by which I am known here in the forest," added he.

"But your name is Henry Gracewood."

"And you may call me so, Phil Farringford, in future," said Mr.
Mellowtone. "My own name sounds strange to me now. I changed it to
escape impertinent questions which might possibly be put to me."

Father and daughter entered the Castle, and seated themselves before
the blazing fire. I rolled the barrel of flour into the store-room,
between the house and the barn. Disposing of the rest of the articles I
had bought in their proper places, my work was finished for the night.

"I will go to the block house now, Mr. Gracewood," I remarked, not
wishing to intrude myself upon the happy father and child in the
Castle.

"No, Phil Farringford," replied he; "I shall have no secrets from you
after this, for you have learned enough to make you desire to know
more."

"I don't wish to intrude, sir."

"Sit down, Phil Farringford. Now Matt Rockwood is gone, I shall regard
you both as my children," continued Mr. Gracewood, with more
sprightliness than I had ever seen him exhibit before.

I put some more pitch wood on the fire, and seated myself opposite the
father and daughter, where I could see the glowing faces of both.

"Now, Ella, tell me how you happen to be so far from St. Louis," said
Mr. Gracewood.

"We were going to Portland, Oregon. Mr. Sparkley failed in business,
and lost all his property," replied she.

"Mr. Sparkley is my brother-in-law, Phil," added Mr. Gracewood. "And
you are going with him, Ella?"

"Yes; Mr. Sparkley has a good chance to go into busine