et a start on those with ability simply because
they had the gall to sail right in and make their bluff. I believe there
are two kinds of modesty, and one kind is closely allied to cowardice.
The fellow who has confidence in himself, thinks he can do a thing, says
he can do it, and does his level best to do it, is the one who will come
out on top. If a chap wants an opportunity to try at anything, he makes
a fool of himself if he says, 'I don't know, perhaps I can do it.' The
one who says, 'I can and will' is the one people have confidence in,
even though he may not be so smart as some modest coward."

Frank whistled softly.

"Hodge," he said, gravely, "you are a philosopher. Your philosophy may
be a trifle mixed, but it will untangle itself later on. Such words from
your lips rather daze me. I think I'll have to sleep and rest in order
to recover."

He ended by a light laugh, in which, however, Bart did not join.

The dark-haired boy would have been glad to talk of the mysterious girl,
but Frank rolled himself in a blanket, with his feet toward the fire and
showed no desire to continue the conversation.

Bart soon followed this example, but the men continued to smoke and talk
for some time.

Bart was awakened by feeling himself vigorously shaken, but, when he
started to speak, a hand was over his mouth, and a voice whispered, in
his ear:

"Easy, old boy; don't make a racket. We want to take a little stroll by
ourselves, and there might be objections."

He knew it was Frank who spoke, although it was still dark, with just a
hint of approaching dawn in the east.

When Frank was sure Bart understood he removed his hand from the
latter's mouth, and the dark-haired boy crept softly from his blanket.

"Where are you going?" whispered Hodge, in surprise.

"Never mind," was the answer. "Take your rifle and come along."

The men were sleeping heavily. The horses stamped restlessly at a
distance of two or three rods. The stars were fading before the gray
light that slowly spread in the east.

Bart secured his rifle. Frank had his already, and they stole out of the
bivouac.

Frank led the way, walking swiftly, and making no noise.

Bart wondered what the boy meant to do. Surely he did not think of
skipping the party, for the horses were abandoned.

The dark-haired lad could not restrain his curiosity long, and he asked
a question as soon as they were beyond earshot of the camp.

"What do you mean to do, Frank