mp come to
inquire why it had been fired. Save themselves there were supposed to be
no other sportsmen for miles around, and they would surely come, if from
no other motive than curiosity.

It was supper-time when he came into camp and upon a picture that warmed
his heart and banished from it, for a time, that rather uncomfortable
sensation which had lately affected him. He had grown fanciful and
thought a night-bird's call was the cry of somebody lost in the woods.

He was glad to see that cheerful fire, to smell the savory food cooking
above it, to observe all the rude comforts with which modern sportsmen
surround themselves. Those boys--Why, they had positively grown fat! And
how they were laughing and fooling with one another! unrebuked by the
older campers, who sat about on logs or stools, and smoked or talked or
sang as the spirit moved them.

The Judge's keen eyes were the first to see the nose of the gray mare
appearing through the thicket and he sprang to his feet with a little
exclamation of alarm:

"Why, Anton, lad! What brings you here? Nothing had happened, I hope!
Eh, what? A packet for me? All right. Thank you. You're just in time to
join us. We've had fine sport to-day and will have a grand meal in
consequence. How's everybody? How's my little Molly?"

Anton's answer was an indirect one.

"You'll tell 'em I brought it safe, no?"

"Why, surely. Did anybody doubt you would? And if it's good news, a good
fee for fetching it. If bad--fee according!"

He drew a little apart, opened the parcel and read the letters. Then he
took a pad from his tent and wrote a brief reply; after which he retied
the bundle and gave it back to Anton, saying:

"Deliver this to Mrs. Hungerford as safely as you have to me and I dare
say she'll give you another like this!"

He held out a shining silver dollar but somehow, although the lad did
take it, it seemed to lie very heavy within that inner pocket where he
dropped it.

Supper over, all grouped about the fire and beset the Indian guide for a
fresh batch of ghost stories, his specialty in literature or tradition;
and though Judge Breckenridge asked his messenger if it were not time
that he started back--for Aunt Lu had written urging him to keep the boy
no longer than was absolutely necessary--Anton still lingered. Hitherto
he had known no fear of any forest. He inherited his love for it and his
knowledge. He had even loved best to prowl in its depths during the
moo