"That's all right, Jones!" cried the indignant preacher. "But I tell you that what you need is the grace of God in your heart. _And you know it!_ And when I get you in the snake-room of Jake Boore's saloon in Deer River next spring," he continued, in righteous anger, "_I'll rub it into you!_ Understand me, Jones? When I haul you out of the snake-room, and wash you, and get you sobered up, I'll rub it into you that what you need is the grace of God in your heart to give you the first splinter of a man's backbone." "I'll be humble--then," said Jones. "You'll have to be a good deal more than humble, friend," Higgins retorted, "before there'll be a man in the skin that _you_ wear." "I don't doubt it, Pilot." "Huh!" the preacher sniffed, in fine scorn. * * * * * The story fortunately has an outcome. I doubt that the cook took the Pilot's prescription; but, at any rate, he had wisdom sufficient to warn the Pilot when his time was out, and his money was in his pocket, and he was bound out of the woods in another attempt to get through Deer River. It was midwinter when the Pilot prescribed the grace of God; it was late in the spring when the cook secretly warned him to stand by the forlorn essay; and it was later still--the drive was on--when, one night, as we watched the sluicing, I inquired. "Jones?" the Pilot replied, puzzled. "What Jones?" "The cook who couldn't get through." "Oh," said the Pilot, "you mean Jonesy. Well," he added, with satisfaction, "Jonesy got through this time." I asked for the tale of it. "You'd hardly believe it," said the Pilot, "but we cashed that big check right in Jake Boore's saloon. I wouldn't have it any other way, and neither would Jonesy. In we went, boys, brave as lions; and when Jake Boore passed over the money Jonesy put it in his pocket. Drink? Not he! Not a drop would he take. They tried all the tricks they knew, but Jonesy wouldn't fall to them. They even put liquor under his nose; and Jonesy let it stay there, and just laughed. I tell you boys, it was fine! It was _great_! Jonesy and I stuck it out night and day together for two days; and then I put Jonesy aboard train, and Jonesy swore he'd never set foot in Deer River again. He was going South, somewhere, to see--somebody." It was doubtless the grace of God, after all, that got the cook through: if not the grace of God in the cook's heart, then in the Pilot's. VII ROBBING THE BLIND