is chair. Where on earth did you come from?"

"Baxter just now--Kootenay on the large scale," answered Ben. "Thought
I'd come over and see you again. Didn't expect you'd remember me at
all."

"Remember you! Why, of course I do. I haven't ever forgot you, Ben.
Many's the time I've wondered where you was and how you was getting
on. And you tell me you've been in the Kootenay! Well, well, you have
seen a good bit more of the world than I ever have. You've changed a
lot, Ben. You ain't a boy no longer. D'ye mind all the pranks you used
to play?"

Ben laughed sheepishly.

"I reckon I do. But it ain't myself I come here to talk about--not
much to say if I did. It's just been up and down with me. How are you
yourself, sir? They were telling me over at Baxter that you were kind
of in trouble."

The old man's face clouded over; all the sparkle went out of his kind
blue eyes.

"Yes, Ben, yes," he said, with a heavy sigh. "I've kind of gone
downhill, that's a fact. The old farm has to go, Ben--I'm sorry for
that--I'd have liked to have ended my days here, but it's not to be. I
don't want to complain. The Lord does all things well. I haven't a
doubt but that it all fits into His wise purposes--not a doubt, Ben,
although it may be kind of hard to see it."

Ben was always skittish of "pious talk." He veered around adroitly.

"I dunno as the Lord has had much to do with this, sir. Seems to me as
if 'twas the other one as was running it, with Joe Moore for deputy.
The main thing, as I look at it, is to get a cinch on him. How much
does the mortgage amount to, sir?"

"About three thousand dollars, interest and all."

Old Stephen's voice trembled. The future looked very dark to him in
his old age.

Ben put his hand inside his coat and brought out a brand-new, plump
pocketbook. He opened it, laid it on his knee, and counted out a
number of crisp notes.

"Here, sir," he said, pushing them along the table. "I reckon that'll
keep you out of Joe Moore's clutches. There's three thousand there if
I ain't made a mistake. That'll set you clear, won't it?"

"Ben!" Old Stephen's voice trembled with amazement. "Ben, I can't take
it. It wouldn't be fair--or right. I could never pay you back."

Ben slipped the rubber band around his wallet and replaced it airily.

"I don't want it paid back, sir. It's a little gift, so to speak, just
to let you know I ain't ungrateful for all you did for me. If it
hadn't been for you I might have b