anvas by the projected images of a
magic-lantern. His mind was occupied by his scheme, which had never
seemed so serious a matter as when he had started upon its fulfilment.
All the possibilities of immediate detection and efficient pursuit
presented themselves to him. He had no respect for Thomas Buffum, yet
there was the thought that he was taking away from him one of the
sources of his income. He would not like to have Buffum suppose that he
could be guilty of a mean act, or capable of making an ungrateful return
for hospitality. Still he did not doubt his own motives, or his ability
to do good to Paul Benedict and his boy.

It was nearly ten miles from Jim's cabin, down the winding river, to the
point where he was to hide his boat, and take to the road which would
lead him to the house of Mike Conlin, half way to Sevenoaks. Remembering
before he started that the blind cart-road over which he must bring his
patient was obstructed at various points by fallen trees, he brought
along his axe, and found himself obliged to spend the whole day on his
walk, and in clearing the road for the passage of a wagon. It was six
o'clock before he reached Mike's house, the outermost post of the
"settlement," which embraced in its definition the presence of women and
children.

"Be gorry," said Mike, who had long been looking for him, "I was afeared
ye'd gi'en it up. The old horse is ready this two hours. I've took more
nor three quarts o' dander out iv 'is hide, and gi'en 'im four quarts
o' water and a pail iv oats, an' he'll go."

Mike nodded his head as if he were profoundly sure of it. Jim had used
horses in his life, in the old days of lumbering and logging, and was
quite at home with them. He had had many a drive with Mike, and knew the
animal he would be required to handle--a large, hardy, raw-boned
creature, that had endured much in Mike's hands, and was quite equal to
the present emergency.

As soon as Jim had eaten his supper, and Mike's wife had put up for him
food enough to last him and such accessions to his party as he expected
to secure during the night, and supplied him abundantly with wrappings,
he went to the stable, mounted the low, strong wagon before which Mike
had placed the horse, and with a hearty "good luck to ye!" from the
Irishman ringing in his ears, started on the road to Sevenoaks. This
portion of the way was easy. The road was worn somewhat, and moderately
well kept; and there was nothing to interfer