Then in as few words as possible Alden told the dreadful story. As soon as he had finished Jethro with a countenance hardly less distressed, said: “Al, you never let me tell you dat secret I wanted to tell you.” “I have no patience to listen now: more important matters are on my mind.” “But you’v got hear it or I’ll bust.” “Go ahead,” said Shagbark, who saw that it had some bearing on the sore trouble of his young friend. “You remember in St. Joe, when dat chap butted into you?” “Of course, but never mind about that.” “Do you know what he said to you?” “I don’t remember, and I don’t care.” “You neber had de rights ob dat; I stubbed my toe, bumped agin him and knocked him agin _you_. De minute he did dat, he turned to you and said, ‘_I beg your pardon!_’ but you thinked he said something insulting, _but he didn’t_.” Alden stared at Jethro. “Are you speaking the truth?” he asked in a husky voice. “As suah’s as you’s standing dere and me here.” “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” “I tried to seberal times but you wouldn’t let me.” “Why didn’t you tell me at the time?” Jethro chuckled. “I wanted to see de fout.” “Jeth, I ought to beat the life out of you for that.” “Dat’s what I thinks; here am your gun; take hold of the barrel and break it ober my head; I won’t say a word.” And the fellow handed the weapon to his master and meekly awaited his pleasure. “To think,” said Alden, as if talking to himself; “that Ross Brandley acted the gentleman and I the brute. No wonder he resented it when I refused to receive his apology. I thank Heaven we did not meet while I knew not the truth. Ah, if I could have seen him before this last happened and told him my regrets!” Shagbark had remained silent until now. He stepped forward and laid his big hand affectionately on the shoulder of Alden. “Don’t take it so to heart, younker: thar’s one chance in a hundred that yer young friend, as I ’spose ye call him, is alive.” “Oh, I hope so, but it is impossible.” “Not much chance, but thar is one as I obsarved in a hundred. Wait till we git to the next station. It mought be that when he seen things looked squally he slipped off his pony and took to kiver. Not much chance I say, but it may be. Let’s hope till we hyar more.” Alden took slight comfort from the words of his rough friend, who had little faith himself in them. Because of this affliction, the train started at an unusually early hour the next morning. It arrived without incident at the next mail station about noon. There they found Mr. Chadwick’s party still in camp, but the leader was absent. In answer to Alden’s hurried questions he was told: “His nephew has been missing since night before last, and he and one of his friends have gone in search of him.” “And that is what _I_ shall do!” said Alden, with a flash of his eyes and a compression of his lips; “and I shall not return till I learn the truth.” “And I’se gwine wid you,” added Jethro Mix.