in his mind somehow; but he was a fine,
powerful fellow--reminded me a little of father--and the pathetic
thing about it was that he had got the idea into his head--"

Here Alec stopped, and, holding the pen idly in his hand, sat lost in
thought. So wistful did he look, so wrapt, that Bates, glancing
furtively at him, thought the letter had raised associations of his home
and childhood, and took himself off to bed, hoping that the letter would
be more brotherly if the writer was left alone. But when Alec put pen to
paper again he only wrote:--

"Well, I don't know that it matters what he had got into his head;
it hadn't anything to do with whether he was Cameron (the name of the
man supposed dead) or not. I could not get a word out of him as to who
he was or where he came from. I did all I could to get him to come in
and have food and get warmed; but though I went after him and stood with
him a long while, I didn't succeed. He was as strong as a giant. It was
awfully solemn to see an old man like that wandering bareheaded in the
snow at night, so far from any human being. I was forced to leave him,
for the engine came clearing the track. I got some men to come after him
with me, but he was gone, and we never saw him again. I stayed on there
ten days, trying to hear something of him, and after that I came here to
try my hand at lumbering. The owner of this place here was terribly cut
up about the affair. It was he who started the coffin I told you of, and
he's been left quite alone because this tale frightened men from coming
to work for him in the winter as usual. I have a very comfortable berth
here. I think there must have been something curious--a streak of some
kind--in the dead man's family; his only daughter went off from here in
a rage a few days after his death, and as the snow came at once, she is
supposed to have perished in the drifts on the hills. Our logs have to
be floated down the small river here at the spring flood, and this man,
Bates, is determined to look for the lost girl at the same time. I'll
stay and see him through the spring. Very likely I shall look in on you
in summer."

Alec Trenholme went to bed not a little sleepy, but satisfied that he
had given a clear account of the greater part of what had befallen him.

The next day he tramped as far as the railway to post the letter.

When Principal Trenholme received this letter he was standing