Thanking the lad, the stranger seated himself in the hump-durgin, and after he had been warned to hold on tight and watch out for "slews," the upper journey was begun. At one of the upper relay stations they waited for a descending "turn" of logs to pass them. Here the stranger visited the engine-house, and while he was talking with the engineer they came in sight. Alaric, who happened to be in charge, was at that moment walking easily forward along the backs of the swaying logs, presenting as fine a specimen of youthful agility, strength, and perfect health as one could wish to encounter. He was clad in jean trousers tucked into boot-legs and belted about his waist; a blue flannel shirt, with a black silk kerchief knotted at the throat, and a black slouch hat.
"ISN'T THAT EXTREMELY DANGEROUS?" ASKED THE STRANGER.
"Isn't that extremely dangerous?" asked the stranger, regarding the approaching lad with a curious interest.
"Not for him it isn't, though it might be for some; but Rick Dale is so level-headed and sure-footed that there isn't his equal for riding logs in this outfit, nor, I don't believe, in any other," answered the engineer.
"What did you say his name was?" asked the stranger, with his gaze still fixed on Alaric.
"Dale. Richard Dale," replied the engineer. "Why? Do you think you know him?"
"No. I don't know any one of that name; but the lad's resemblance to another whom I used to know is certainly very striking."
"Yes. It's funny how often people look alike who have never been within a thousand miles of each other," remarked the engineer, carelessly, as he stepped to the signal-box. In another minute Alaric had passed out of sight, while Bonny and the stranger had resumed their upward journey.
That evening Alaric remarked to his chum, "I noticed you had a passenger to-day."