n of ferocity was relieved by the almost human intelligence of
his eyes. He was absolutely fearless, but as loving and gentle as he
was brave. He understood every word spoken within his hearing, and his
master declared that for his wisdom he ought to be named "Solomon." He
never made an unprovoked assault upon a living creature, and would
stand any amount of abuse from children or those weaker than himself.
Let an indignity be offered to his beloved master in his presence,
though, and his fury was as terrible as that of a young lion. Then woe
to the unfortunate in whose flesh those gleaming teeth were once
fastened. From the vise-like grip of the powerful jaws behind them
nothing but death or Billy Brackett's command could effect a release.

Such were the occupants of the skiff that soon after dusk shot out from
the mouth of the Caspar Creek on the broad bosom of the great river.
Billy Brackett talked to his dog as he would to a human companion, and
at that moment he was saying:

"Look here, Bim, I've a great mind to play a joke on that young nephew
of ours when we find him. You see, he won't know us from Adam, and
probably doesn't remember that he has an Uncle William in the world.
Now what is to hinder us from working the stranger racket on him?
Wrecked, or broke, or something, and want to earn a passage down the
river on a raft, it being easier as well as more sociable and
pleasanter in every way than a steamboat. What's to hinder us from
doing it, eh? Nothing? Right you are, old dog, and we'll do it, too,
if we get the chance. Thus will we discover what sort of stuff he is
made of, and get acquainted with his inside self, as Glen Eddy used to
say. So you understand, U-Bim, that you are not to give us away or let
on that we are any kin to the Caspars. _Sabe_? All right. Now for a
twenty-mile spin down-stream, and then we'll hunt a place to lie by for
the night."

With this the young man bent lustily to his oars, while Bim sat in the
stern of the skiff, alert to every movement made by his master, and
swaying his body like that of a genuine cockswain.

Billy Brackett recognized the "Slant Crossing," when they reached it,
from the description he had received of its length and direction; but
below that point the river for a thousand miles was a blank so far as
his personal knowledge of it was concerned.

Although the night was dark, and there were but few guide-lights on the
river in those days, he fou