ag.

"But _I_ do, by Jove!" said Carl to himself, watching him disappear.

Musicians, in this world's knowledge and wisdom, are often fools, or
rather they remain always children. The beautiful gift, the divine gift,
the gift which is the nearest to heaven, is accompanied by lacks of
another sort. Carl Brenner, like a child, could not appreciate poverty
unless his dinner was curtailed, his tobacco gone. The petty changes now
made in the small routine of each day touched him acutely, and roused
him at last to the effort of connected, almost practical thought. Old
Mark was troubled--poor. The cook was going, the hunter discharged; the
dinners would be good no longer. This was because he, Carl, had taken
the money. There was no especial harm in the act _per se_; but, as the
sum happened to be all old Mark had, it was unfortunate. Under the
circumstances, what could he, Carl, do to help old Mark?

Mark loved that light-headed little Leeza. Mark had brought him down
here and taken care of him on Leeza's account. Mark, therefore, should
have Leeza. He, Carl, would bring it about. He set to work at once to be
special providence in Mark's affairs. He sat down, wrote a long letter,
sealed it with a stern air, and then laid it on the table, got up, and
surveyed it with decision. There it was--done! Gone! But no; not "gone"
yet. And how could it go? He was now confronted by the difficulty of
mailing it without Mark's knowledge. San Miguel was the nearest
post-office; and San Miguel was miles away. Africanus was half
crippled; the old hunter would come no more; he himself could not walk
half the distance. Then an idea came to him: Africanus, although
dismissed, was not yet gone. He went out to find him.

Mark came home at night with a few birds. "They will last us over one
day," he said, throwing down the spoil. "You still here, Scip? I thought
I sent you off."

"He's going to-morrow," interposed Carl. Scip sat up all night cooking.

"What in the world has got into him?" said Deal, as the light from the
old chimney made their sleeping-room bright.

"He wants to leave us well supplied, I suppose," said Carl, from his
hammock. "Things keep better down here when they're cooked, you know."
This was true; but it was unusual for Carl to interest himself in such
matters.

The next morning Deal started on a hunting expedition, intending to be
absent two days. Game was plenty in the high lands farther west. He had
good luck, and ca