"Yes, true to his own interests."
"It takes two to make a fight, though, doesn't it? By the way, Uncle, why did you let that sapheaded Englishman jump your claim last week? I should think you'd hate him for such tricks as you do Tad?" Willis eyed his uncle closely, then in a half undertone he casually remarked, "Anyway, I think a whole lot of this mining business is mighty crooked business." Then again to his uncle, "Is Tad still around in the mountains somewhere, Uncle?"
Mr. Williams smiled in a preoccupied way and said, "Yes and no."
"I don't understand?" questioned Willis.
There was no reply. Soon the man laid down his paper and left the room.
"Well, I'll be jiggered," said Willis half-aloud. "What can he have against the man who was my father's partner? I don't know, but I'll find out." He closed his book with a slam and went off to bed.
* * * * *
The last Friday night of the summer vacation saw a large group of husky high school boys board the car en route to the cabin. All were equipped with blanket rolls, and several carried picks, shovels, and other tools, for "to-morrow" real work on the cabin was to begin. It seemed that the coloring of the leaves had given everything their delicate tint. The squirrels were already gathering stray acorns that Mother Nature had dropped for them. The little canyon lay in perfect quiet, except for the chattering of the line of boys stretched out along its leafy woodland trail. The whole physical body seemed to respond in a mysterious way to its every call, for "In the city we live, but in the mountains we live more abundantly."
By eleven o'clock the party sat around a half-dozen blazing campfires, munching at a midnight lunch and speculating on various phases of the work. Ham was keeping the fellows around one fire laughing over his remarks; Fat was giving expression to his views on camp grub and food in general. Mr. Dean entertained another group by his stories of army life, while Mr. Allen and a number of the boys' Cabinet were laying out a plan of work for the morrow. Shorty Wier advised work on the fireplace first, because, as he pointed out, "the fireplace would be the cabin's heart." It might have fine decorations and new rooms, a well-stocked pantry and new furniture, yet what would all these be to a dead thing? The fireplace would be the spot around which all the cabin life would congregate—around which every strange experience would be put into words. "Yes, I'll help cut the logs and pack in the lumber and build the furniture, but first of all let me see the rugged stone chimney with a fire quietly burning on a great, wide, friendly hearth to cheer me as I work."
"You are right, Shorty," cried Willis. "I'm with you, for when the old fireplace is built, and the wind is whistling down the canyon, bringing messages of snow, we'll forget everything outside and just be happy toasting before a great log fire."