hysical prowess
a hobby. He had found out the value of health, and condition. In his
travels in remote lands, if he had gotten sick, there would be no one
to bother with him, and he would be left to die, so he reasoned that
it was better to be a live man than something more wretched than a
sick dog.

"I used to smoke like a chimney, Ezac," he once said to Juarez. He
never called the latter by his full name, it being either "War" or
"Ezac," according to his mood, "but I quit about five years ago. I
didn't make any resolution about it either and would smoke now if I
wished to."

"I suppose you felt miserable for a while after you quit?" said
Juarez.

"No, strange to say, I didn't. In fact, I began to feel fine and fit
in a week or two and I found that I could meet any crisis that came up
on the level, and did not have to make an effort of the will to step
up to it and brace myself to it as I used to. But I'm not preaching.
Smoke if you want to, Ezac."

"I don't want to," replied Juarez, "and what's the use of taking up
with something you don't care for? Just so much extra baggage."
Berwick smiled at this, showing his fine white teeth.

"Well, now, 'War,' that's unusual sense for a kid, I must say. The
fact that you don't want a thing for a boy of your years is no
argument. It may be smoking or chewing or something else that will
make 'em devilish sick, but a kid will do it just for a show and to
make an impression on his friends what a terrible character he is."

"None of us are like that," said Juarez. "Perhaps it is because we
have seen plenty of real life on the frontier and have had plenty of
excitement and adventure without resorting to foolishness."

"Something in that, Ezac," nodded Berwick.

This will serve as an introduction to this interesting man, before we
listen, with the Frontier Boys, to the story that he has to tell. I
may add here that John Berwick had dark hair, thinning in front and
brushed straight with the forehead, dark hazel eyes, generally
pleasant in expression, but capable of becoming harsh and hard
with anger. He wore a rather slight dark moustache above a mouth
thin-lipped and wide. The chin was square, and the whole complexion
of the face rather dark.

The boys had never gathered before in the engine-room in a body, and
as Jeems Howell's tall figure loomed in the doorway the gathering was
complete. It was because the boys had never imposed on him that the
engineer was inclined to