tock farm. It represented
more than the average fortune accumulated by constant and attentive
prospecting for forty years.

Joe's hint at the opportunity of connecting with God's country struck
Jack as a coincidence upon which there might turn a contingency, so he
reasoned with himself: "Why does Joe think I might want to get away from
the Indians? Does he think I will desert my camp outfit and provisions?
Besides, what is the old trapper to do when he returns?"

These questions were immediately answered by the cattleman just the same
as though Jack had asked the information point blank, a proceeding which
added to the weirdness of Joe's presence, and the most uncanny feature
of it was the total inability of the hearer to locate whence came the
sound that emanated from that sepulchral living cadaver. No lips moved
in unison with a voice, nor even did the gleaming teeth, just visible
through the parted mouth, open or close as if responsive to any oral
exertions. The sound came from everywhere. Joe was a heaven-born
ventriloquist.

"Yer needn't be slow about gittin' away from Rock Creek ef yer want ter
go. 'Taint nothin' ter me. That ther' trapper ain't comin' back 'til
ther beaver gets to usin' thar cutters on the trees a-buildin' dams, an'
then he won't cum back ef thar's goin' to be trubble. He tol' me that
ther day afore he struck out, savvey?"

Jack did not need to have the cabin fall on him nor an upheaval of the
earth to realize that the trapper had "cut loose" from the Rock Creek
possibilities. There was an ominous silence for a couple of minutes. One
thing was certain in the minds of the two white men, alone, as they
were, far from aid of any sort in the event of an uprising, and the
thought uppermost in both their minds was as patent to each other as if
branded in letters of fire--the trapper had deserted the tenderfoot.

As soon as this thought had coursed through Jack's brain other thoughts
surged one upon another in quick succession. Was it a frontier
conspiracy in which both white and red men were equally interested? Was
it a put-up job between the trapper and Joe and the Indians--merely a
coincidence in the commission of the trade? Perhaps the trapper had sold
the camp outfit and Joe had come to take possession. This last thought
made his heart sick, for he knew only too well that he could make no
resistance except that which would end in a tragedy. Again the
supernatural mind-reading Joe proclaimed hi