least ye couldn't prove it by me."

"Was your father or grandfather a voyageur or trapper, or Canadian?"

"They were from Pike County, Mizzoori."

The master regarded Uncle Ben still dubiously. "But you call yourself
Dabney. What makes you think your real name is d'Aubigny?"

"That's the way it uster be writ in letters to me in the States. Hold
on. I'll show ye." He deliberately began to feel in his pockets, finally
extracting his old purse from which he produced a crumpled envelope, and
carefully smoothing it out, compared it with his signature.

"Thar, you see. It's the same--d'Aubigny."

The master hesitated. After all, it was not impossible. He recalled
other instances of the singular transformation of names in the
Californian emigration. Yet he could not help saying, "Then you
concluded d'Aubigny was a better name than Dabney?"

"Do YOU think it's better?"

"Women might. I dare say your wife would prefer to be called Mrs.
d'Aubigny rather than Dabney."

The chance shot told. Uncle Ben suddenly flushed to his ears.

"I didn't think o' that," he said hurriedly. "I had another idee. I
reckoned that on the matter o' holdin' property and passin' in money
it would be better to hev your name put on the square, and to sorter go
down to bed rock for it, eh? If I wanted to take a hand in them lots or
Ditch shares, for instance--it would be only law to hev it made out in
the name o' d'Aubigny."

Mr. Ford listened with certain impatient contempt. It was bad enough for
Uncle Ben to have exposed his weakness in inventing fictions about his
early education, but to invest himself now with a contingency of
capital for the sake of another childish vanity, was pitiable as it
was preposterous. There was no doubt that he had lied about his school
experiences; it was barely probable that his name was really d'Aubigny,
and it was quite consistent with all this--even setting apart the fact
that he was perfectly well known to be only a poor miner--that he should
lie again. Like most logical reasoners Mr. Ford forgot that humanity
might be illogical and inconsistent without being insincere. He turned
away without speaking as if indicating a wish to hear no more.

"Some o' these days," said Uncle Ben, with dull persistency, "I'll tell
ye suthen'."

"I'd advise you just now to drop it and stick to your lessons," said the
master sharply.

"That's so," said Uncle Ben hurriedly, hiding himself as it were in
an all-encompassing