the way. None of them things that I was
conjurin' up is goin' to happen. I was just tellin' you of the things
you was goin' to escape, and now you'll feel good, knowin' what dangers
you have passed before they happened."

Dick laughed. He liked this intensely red man with his round face and
twinkling eyes. He saw, too, that the mountaineer was a fine horseman,
and as he carried a long slender-barreled rifle over his shoulder, while
a double-barreled pistol was thrust in his belt, it was likely that he
would prove a formidable enemy to any who sought to stop him.

"Perhaps your way is wise," said the boy. "You begin with the bad
and end with the good. What is the name of this place to which we are
going?"

"Hubbard. There was a pioneer who fit the Injuns in here in early
times. I never heard that he got much, 'cept a town named after him. But
Hubbard is a right peart little place, with a bank, two stores, three
churches, an' nigh on to two hundred people. Are you wrapped up well,
Mr. Mason, 'cause it's goin' to be cold on the mountains?"

Dick wore heavy boots, and a long, heavy military coat which fell below
his knees and which also had a high collar protecting his ears. He
was provided also with heavy buckskin gloves. The sergeant was clad
similarly.

"I think I'm clothed against any amount of cold," he replied.

"Well, you need to be," said Petty, "'cause the pass through which we're
goin' is at least fifteen hundred feet above Townsville--that's our
village--an' I reckon it's just 'bout as high over Hubbard. Them fifteen
hundred feet make a pow'ful difference in climate, as you'll soon find
out. It's not only colder thar, but the winds are always blowin' hard
through the pass. Jest look back at Townsville. Ain't she fine an' neat
down thar in the valley, beside that clear creek which higher up in the
mountains is full of the juiciest an' sweetest trout that man ever stuck
a tooth into."

Dick saw that Petty was talkative, but he did not mind. In fact, both
he and Whitley liked the man's joyous and unbroken run of chatter. He
turned in his saddle and looked back, following the stout man's pointing
finger. Townsville, though but a little mountain town built mainly of
logs, was indeed a jewel, softened and with a silver sheen thrown over
it by the mountain air which was misty that morning. He dimly saw the
long black line of the train standing on the track, and here and there
warm rings of smoke rose from the c