"There wouldn't have been any misunderstanding if Wade had sent the girl back by the messenger," protested Barrett. "And if he didn't have something up his sleeve he would have done so. The girl is nothing to him, and he's meddling in affairs that are none of his business." "You'd better save that talk and tell it to him," said the old guide, grimly. "I'm going to take you to where we arranged to meet if every man that Britt can rake and scrape on his ten townships comes followin' at my back. I've thought it over, and the more witnesses there are to some things the better it is for all concerned--or the worse!" And reflecting on what these words might mean, and now a little dubious as to the sagacity of Pulaski Britt in handling delicate negotiations, "Stumpage John" plodded on with less content in his heart. Two miles farther down the trail, at a place that Barrett recognized as the old Durfy camps, Straight signalled by discharging his rifle, and Dwight Wade came into sight with the girl. Foolish Abe of the Skeets followed far behind like a sheepish dog, uncertain whether to expect kick or caress. "You may as well know first as last that the whole pack is followin' a little way behind," snorted old Christopher, in disgust. "Britt sent an Indian to snuff the trail and blaze the way. I did your errand, that's all. You've got time to get away. You may want to keep on tryin' to do business with a crowd that ain't square. I don't!" He turned and walked away, sat down, and filled his pipe. "I had Straight explain to you why it was better to meet privately here," declared Wade, with honest resentment glowing in his eyes. "But I'm not going to run. I've had hard work to get this young woman to consider your proposition to educate her, Mr. Barrett." He held her by the hand, and spoke out with a candor that convinced the lumberman that here there was neither reservation nor complicity. The girl eyed him sulkily, without interest, as she looked at all outsiders. "I have told this young woman that you, as a timber-land owner, are sorry for all the troubles that the Skeets and Bushees have had in years past, and want to make up in some way. I've told her you're ready to send her to some good boarding-school. As she can't read or write, she doesn't know what this means, and she can't express her thanks. But I'm sure that later she'll understand your kindness and generosity. The girl is untrained, and she knows it. I hope you'll overlook any lack of gratitude, Mr. Barrett. She'll know how to express it some day."