ick started down ter the ledge, anyhow," he argued.

Did he dream it, or was it true, that when Nick came back he seemed at
first strangely agitated?

All at once Barney exclaimed aloud,--

"This hyar air a powerful cur'ous thing 'bout'n that thar piece what war
tored out'n my coat!"

"What's curious about it?" asked Stebbins quickly.

Jim Dow took his pipe from his mouth, and looked sharply at the boy.

Barney struggled for a moment with a strong temptation. Then a nobler
impulse asserted itself. He would not even attempt to shield himself
behind the friend who had done him so grievous an injury.

He _knew_ nothing positively; he must not put his suspicions and his
vague, half-sleeping impressions into words, and thus possibly criminate
Nick.

He himself felt certain now how the matter really stood,--that Nick had
no connection whatever with the robbery, but having accidentally
stumbled upon the stolen goods, he had become panic-stricken, had lied
about it, and finally had saved himself at the expense of an innocent
friend.

Still, Barney had no _proof_ of this, and he felt he would rather suffer
unjustly himself than unjustly throw blame on another.

"Nothin', nothin'," he said absently. "I war jes' a-studyin' 'bout'n it
all."

"Well, I wouldn't think about it any more just now," said good-natured
Stebbins. "You look like you had been dragged through a keyhole instead
of a window-pane. This town we're coming to is the biggest town you ever
saw."

Barney could not respond to this attempt to divert his attention. He
could only brood upon the fact that he was innocent, and would be
punished as if he were guilty, and that it was Nick Gregory, his chosen
friend, who had brought him to this pass.

He would not be unmanly, and injure Nick with a possibly unfounded
suspicion, but his heart burned with indignation and contempt when he
thought of him. He felt that he would go through fire and water to be
justly revenged upon him.

He determined that, if ever he should see Nick again, even though years
might intervene, he would tax him with the injury he had wrought, and
make him answer for it.

Barney clenched his fists as he looked back at the ethereal blue shadows
that they said were the solid old hills.

Perhaps, however, if he had known where, in the misty uncertainty that
enveloped Goliath Mountain, Nick Gregory was at this moment,--far away
in the lonely woods, helpless with his broken arm, perched hi