you--"

"'I hear you men are looking for me,' I said. 'What can I do for you?'
They all stood around, their eyes on Le Boeuf, as if they wanted him
to speak. A more surprised and frightened lot of men I never saw.

"'Well, we didn't burn de house,' Le Boeuf began. 'We 'fraid you come
and 'rest us. We haf no money to fight reech man like you--we want
work for you again. We know who burn de house--it not us.'

"'That's all right, Le Boeuf,' I said. 'I know you didn't have
anything to do with the fire or you wouldn't be here. Now go back home
all of you, and if I rebuild Big Shanty I'll send for you to help.
Good-bye!' and I turned on my tracks, picked up Mr. Dinsmore where he
had hidden himself and started back. We really have been running away
from our shadows--" and Thayor laughed one of his hearty laughs that
showed how greatly his mind was relieved.

"And what kep' ye so long?" broke in the trapper.

"The fear of running across some of them who would know your son. You
see we had to go around the lake, and we didn't know which side of it
they would take. The rain, too, made the night settle the earlier.
We were almost within sight of the camp here when we saw the torches.
Holcomb and Margaret reached us first. I guess you carried her over
the rough places--didn't you, Billy? Well, I don't blame you, my
boy." There was a twinkle in his eye when he spoke. He was very happy
to-night! "And so you see we have had our scare for nothing."

"And now one thing more before I turn in," he added in his quick,
business-like way. "This has been on my mind all day, and as we have
no secrets now that we can't share with each other, I want you all to
hear what I am going to say. Will you come closer, Mr. Dinsmore"--it
was marvellous how he never omitted the prefix; "would you mind moving
up so that you can listen the better? I am going to do what I can to
end your sufferings." The hide-out shambled up and sat in a crouching
position, the blanket about his shoulders, his hollow eyes fixed on
Thayor.

"What I want to say to you all is this: I have had several conferences
with this poor fellow and he has my deepest sympathy. I believe every
word he has told me. What I intend to do now is to find a place for
him among the lumber gangs in the great Northwest. There he will
be safe; there, too, he can earn his living for he knows the woods
thoroughly, but he must get to Canada without a day's delay. I can
handle the matter better th