s that adorned the dining-room. "But, somehow,
nothing makes me feel _successful_ like pouring real cream into my
coffee."

The gray-haired "little girl" laughed happily.

"You never have quite grown up, Hubert," she replied. "Did you have a
hard trip, dear? The three weeks you have been away have seemed like
three months to me."

"No, no! I had a good trip. It looked rather hopeless at first, trying
to establish a new camp, with no one really capable of running it; but
just at the last minute--You remember the man I told you about last
fall--the young fellow who throttled that scoundrel after the wreck in
the Chicago railroad yards, and who refused to tell me his name until
after he had made good?"

"Yes--he was drowned last spring, wasn't he? Poor boy, I have often
wondered who he was--a gentleman, you said?"

"By gad, he's more than a gentlemen--he's a _man_! And he wasn't
drowned at all. Got rescued somehow by an old squaw and her daughter.
His leg was broken, and when he got well he stayed in the woods and
looked after the camp all summer; and not only that, he recovered
fifty-two bird's-eye maple logs that had been stolen by some of my own
men.

"He found me in Creighton, and I made him boss of the new camp. He's a
winner, and the men will work for him till they drop."

"Oh, by the way, Hubert," said Mrs. Appleton. "Mr. Sheridan called up a
day or two ago and wanted to know when you would return. He said you
and he had planned a deer-hunt this fall."

"Yes; we'll go about the first of the month. It's been a good while
since Ross Sheridan and I have had a hunt together; not since the old
days on the Crow Wing. Remember the time Ross and I got lost, and
nearly scared you womenfolks to death?"

"Indeed I do. I never will forget that blizzard, and those three awful
days--we had been married only six months, and Mary Sheridan and I were
the only women in the camp.

"I remember how good all the men were to us--telling us you were in no
danger, and not to worry--and all during the storm they were searching
the woods in squads. Oh, it was awful! And yet----" Her voice trailed
into silence, and she stared a long time into the open fire that blazed
in the huge fireplace.

"And yet, what, little girl," asked Appleton, smiling fondly upon
her--"what are you thinking about? Come, tell me."

She turned her eyes toward him, and the man detected a wistful look in
them.

"I was thinking, dear, of how happy we wer