r the valley indicated by the Wild Man.

Meanwhile, the Wild Man himself was already far ahead of them, keeping
out of sight among the woods, and galloping nearly in the same
direction--for his cave lay not more than four miles from the valley in
question. Being much better mounted than they, he soon left the
trappers far behind him, and when night closed in he continued his
journey, instead of halting to eat and take a few hours' rest as they
did. The consequence was that he reached his cave several hours before
the trappers arrived at the valley, where they expected to find their
missing comrade.

Of course March was filled with surprise at this second unexpected
return of Dick; but the latter relieved his mind by explaining, in an
offhand way, that he had met a man who had told him the Mountain Fort
was all safe, and that his comrades also were safe, and wandering about
in that part of the country in search of him. After a good deal of
desultory conversation, Dick turned to his guest with a sad, serious
air, and, fixing his large blue eyes on him, said--

"March, lad, you an' me must part soon."

"Part!" exclaimed the youth in surprise, glancing at Mary, who sat
opposite to him, embroidering a pair of moccasins.

"Ay, we must part. You'll be well enough in a day or two to travel
about with yer comrades. Now, lad, I want ye to understand me. I've
lived here, off and on, for the last fourteen or fifteen years--it may
be more, it may be less; I don't well remember--an' I've niver suffered
men to interfere wi' me. I don't want them, an' they don't want me."

He paused. There was a slight dash of bitterness in the tone in which
the last words were uttered; but it was gone when he resumed, in his
usual low and musical voice--

"Now, although I chose to bring you to my cave, because I found ye
a'most in a dyin' state, an' have let ye into one or two o' my secrets--
because I couldn't help it, seein' that I couldn't stop up yer eyes--an'
yer ears--yet I don't choose to let yer comrades know anything about me.
They've no right to, an' _you_ have no right to tell 'em; so, when ye
meet 'em again ye mustn't talk about me or my cave, d'ye see?"

"Certainly," said March, who was both surprised and annoyed by his
speech, "certainly you have a perfect right to command me to hold my
tongue; and, seein' that you've bin so kind to me, Dick, I'm in duty
bound to obey; but how can you ask me to put myself in such an awkwa