"Magistrate Raften, clear my house of them interlopers, if ye please."
Caleb gave them a few minutes to gather up their own clothes, then they set out on foot for Downey's, wild with helpless rage, penniless wanderers in the world, as they had meant to leave old Caleb.
Now he was in possession of his own again, once more comfortably "fixed." After the men had had their rough congratulations and uproarious laughter over the success of the trick, Raften led up to the question of money, then left a blank, wondering what Caleb would do. The good old soul pulled out the wad.
"There it is, Bill. I hain't even counted it, and a thousand times obliged. If ever you need a friend, call on me."
Raften chuckled, counted the greenbacks and said "All right!" and to this day Caleb doesn't know that the fortune he held in his hand that day was [495] nothing but a lot of worthless paper.
A week later, as the old Trapper sat alone getting his evening meal, there was a light rap at the door.
"Come in."
A woman entered. Turk had sprung up growling, but now wagged his tail, and when she lifted a veil Caleb recognized Saryann.