"I've said it. And he saved my life, too. But when I look at yer, I get to thinking." His voice sank to a hoarse whisper. "I think lots, nights. He comes back to ye alone, through them trees, and there's one place where the pine needles is thick as moss. And I mind me what a Dago told me onst. He'd killed his man, he had, stabbed him from behind with a knife he showed me: jest an ordinary knife, only sharp. An' he told me how he done it, whar to strike--savvy? It goes in slick!" He stopped, seeing that Mamie was regarding him with wide-eyed horror and consternation. "Dennis!" "Yes, my name's Dennis, right enough. That's the trouble. I hav'n't the nerve to kill Barker, and you hav'n't the nerve to skip off with me. Were two of a kind, Mamie, scairt to death of what comes after death. And you know it. So long!" She caught at his arm. "You ain't a-goin' to leave the inlet?" "It's a mighty big country, this," Dennis replied austerely; "but I've a notion it ain't quite big enough for Barker an' me. So long!" "I'm comin' up to-morrer, Dennis, to see 'em run the last rapid. Mebbe you was fullish to leave the range?" He marked the interrogation in her tone, and answered, for him, almost roughly-- "Mebbe I was, but not so fullish as you by a long sight!" With that he returned to the bunk-house. * * * * * Not half a mile from the inlet the Coho gathers itself together for its last wild rush to salt water. And here there is a huge pool where logs lie peacefully as alligators in the sun. At the end of the pool the river flows gently in a channel free from rocks and snags. Then the channel narrows, and a little farther on you behold the head of the rapid, and half-way down the Coho Falls thunder everlastingly. When the logs reach the falls they are meat for the mills. Nothing can stop them then. One after another they rise on end to take the final plunge. Some twist and writhe as if in agony, as if conscious that the river and forest shall know them no more. Thousands have travelled the self-same way; not one has ever returned. The lower rapid of the Coho hardly deserves its name. Half a mile farther on it is an estuary across which stretches the boom. The crews assembled on each side of the pool. The logs were pricked into slow movement. This being duffers' work was assigned to the less experienced. The picked river-drivers stood upon the rocks of the upper rapid, pole in hand. And here, watching them with a lack-lustre eye, stood Mamie in the shade of a dogwood tree in full blossom. Now and again a soft white petal would fall upon the water and be swept away. Above the hemlocks soughed softly. At her feet the giant maidenhair raised its delicate fronds till they touched her cheek.