that's going to be
me."

Meanwhile Thad managed to get in close touch with Jim Hasty. When the
others were joking, and having a merry time, he was wondering how the
guide's little affair had been working out.

Many hours had passed since he had seen Jim, and he wondered whether the
latter could have had any further communication from Old Cale, or even
run across the father of his wife in the pine woods.

Jim was looking a little more serious than ever; but so far as Thad
could discover there was nothing about him to indicate that he had been
in violent collision with an enemy. And there were both his ears in
their proper places; which fact might be taken as positive proof that
the giant poacher had at least so far not attempted to carry out his
terrible threat.

Jim seemed to know what was passing through the boy's mind; for he
smiled faintly, and shook his head in the negative.

"Nothing new happened, then, Jim?" questioned the patrol leader.

"Naw. I hain't been far from camp the hull blessed day; an' consequently
never had no chanct tew run up against Pa Martin," replied the other.
"But I'm more sot than ever tew see him face tew face, afore I quits
this here region. It's jest _gut_ tew be done, else I wudn't hev
ther nerve tew face Little Lina agin. She made me promise; an' by
thunder! nawthin' hain't agoin' tew skeer me off. If he doan't hunt me
out, by ding! I'll take a turn at hit, an' find Cale Martin myself, ef
so be I gotter tramp all the way tew his shack, wich I knows on'y tew
well."

"Good for you, Jim!" said Thad, admiringly; "but I suppose you
understand what risk you're taking in trying that game? From all I've
heard about Cale Martin, he's surely a terror; and then the threat he
made about your ears would be enough to scare most men away."

Jim drew a long breath as he answered this.

"Lot's o' people doan't know Ole Cale like I does. He hain't so black
nor they jes' paints him. Them game wardens is afeerd o' him, and they
piles all kinds o' things on his shoulders thet he hain't no business to
kerry."

"Yes, I've heard before about giving a dog a bad name, and then he has
to bear the sins of the whole neighborhood," remarked Thad. "There is
never a sheep killed but that Dog Tray is the guilty one. And so you
think Cale isn't altogether so bad as we've heard?"

"He's a big man, and he's gut an' _orful_ temper; but it's them tew
critters he goes with thet's the wust cases. They jest draw h