"Billy--I'd give you all I ever hoped to have here or hereafter if I could begin to-night where you are--and with the power to _want_ to keep straight." Billy shivered and looked dumbly, pathetically into the sad face above him. He had nothing to say. When Jock next spoke he was more like himself. "Billy, will you see to a little business for me, and keep mum?" This was quite in the line of the over-burdened Billy, and he accepted off-hand. "I may--go--into camp before Christmas." "Don't yer!" advised the boy magnanimously. "I ain't ever going to care again. You can stay here." Jock forbore to smile, but he laid his hand on Billy's shoulder. "There's two big stacks of young pine trees up to my shack done round in bagging and ticketed to a place down the State. They're Christmas trees for poor kids, and I want you to see to getting them off for me to-morrow or next day, and if Tom Smith airs any remarks, you let on as how they hailed from the bungalow; for that's God's truth, when all's told." "They'll go, Jock, you bet!" Billy gulped. Curiosity was dead within him. Human suffering gave him an insight that soared above idle questioning. "And Billy, there's another thing. I want you to go to Gaston's shack; tote water and wood for Joyce--and keep your mouth shut. And lay this by in your constitution. Gaston is a man so far above anything God ever created round here, that you can't understand him, but you _can_ try to chase off the dirty insects that want to sting him. Catch on?" "Yes"; murmured Billy, while unfulfilled duty clutched his vitals with remorse. "I'm--I'm going up to Gaston's to-morrow," he said. "And now, you old rip," Filmer shook off his strange mood, "walk up to a fellow's bunk with him. It's good to keep clean company when you can--and for as long as you can." "Shall--shall I stay all night with you?" Billy asked this doubtfully from the new instinct that was stirring within him. For an instant a gleam of pleasure lighted Filmer's face. It almost seemed like a yearning, then he said roughly: "No, get home! You're afraid? If you are I'll turn back." "What you take me for?" Billy sniffed scornfully, and then they parted company. * * * * * It was just when the hands of the clock in Drew's study pointed to half-past twelve, that the young master, sitting before the glowing logs, bestirred himself preparatory to turning in for the night. A satisfied feeling had kept him up after the others had bade good night. He always enjoyed the anticlimax of pleasure, and the day had been a happy one.