"No, not a cent. Just the same, if ever I get shuffled off all of a sudden—rollin' down one of these mountains, say—I want you to look there mighty careful. There may be a document or two of importance—letter to my old home, and all that."
"I won't forget," Ben promised.
"See that you don't." They shook hands again, lightly and happily. "So good-by, son, and—'take keer of yerself!'"
The old man turned away, and soon his withered figure vanished into the thickets farther up the river. He was following a fairly well-worn moose trail, and he went swiftly. Soon he was out of hearing of the sound of the great river.
Then the little woods people—marten and ermine and rodent and such other small forest creatures that—who can say?—might watch with exceeding interest the travelers on the trails, could have thought that old Ezram was already fatigued. He sat down beside a tree and drew a soiled sheet of paper from his pocket. Searching further he found then the stub of a pencil. Then he wrote.
Having written he unlaced his boot on the right foot, folded the paper, and thrust it into the bootleg. Then, relacing the shoe, he arose and journeyed blithely on.
IX
On arriving in Snowy Gulch, Ben's first efforts were to inquire in regard to horses. Both pack and saddle animals, he learned, were to be hired of Sandy McClurg, the owner of the general store and leading citizen of the village; and at once he made his way to confer with him.