Heald sat staring off at the hillside, wondering at all the unconscious heroism of the tale. He was scarcely aware when Uncle Bill’s voice added, “Sometimes in my dreams it’s all the same as it was; the cabins and the tents with the smoke curlin’ up from ’em; the fellers I knew gassin’ about their clean-ups; the evenin’s in the dance hall. And sometimes I see it about three in the afternoon, with the clink-clink of shovels heavin’ dirt into the sluice boxes, and then I hear the ring of Tim Gray’s hammer and anvil, up there where that tall tree stands, where he had a blacksmith shop; and the stage comes in and some of the boys knocks off work and goes up ter see if there’s any news from home for ’em. “Harmon’s Camp, they called it then. And I was Bill Harmon--not Uncle Bill. I lifted a pack burro, pack and all, on a bet, one day in them times. Yesterday I had ter rest three times before I could roll a bowlder the size of a barrel out of my way. But--I’m here yet!” He turned toward his guest and said fiercely, in his thin, old voice, “And kin you blame me for fightin’ when they try ter drive me off’n this place that’s mine? I know it ain’t right ter shoot, but---- Good Lord! ain’t it mine? Kin you blame me?” “I can’t!” said Heald, in a voice that sounded as if subdued by reverence. “But if----” “There ain’t no buts! There ain’t goin’ to be none! You see how it is, son. I’m here. It’s the only place that’s home ter me. And so I’m goin’ ter stay. If they think they’ve got the best of it, I’ll still have ’em beat, because they wouldn’t cart a poor old cuss like me away from here ter plant him! They’ll just naturally dig a hole off somewhere on the hillside and stick me in the place I love and--here I’ll stay--where I’ve always wanted ter stay--and--and the stream down yonder’ll know I’m there and sing me the same old songs, and I’ll never be lonely in my sleep.” He could not see that Heald was troubled and perplexed. He could not understand that his mere possession was not title to this place. “Hope,” said Heald thoughtfully, “that they never put you off. I can’t say any more. But--Uncle Bill, I will do my best, whatever comes.” “I know that, son! I’m sure of it! But--from all you’ve said ter me--it--it begins to look as if I’ve got ter depend on Somebody higher’n you or the other boys--Somebody that ain’t never failed yet ter see me through!” And then, with a heavy, weary sigh, he arose and trudged away to his bed. It was but two days later when the partners brought Heald a bulky package of letters, that he read beneath the lamp in the cabin while the others remained outside, passing broken remarks, and sitting in habitual silences. He came outside with the announcement that the time had come for him to depart. “But--it’s all so all-fired sudden,” said Old Harmless. “I’ve got--I’ve got sort’o uster you and--the grub’s all right, ain’t it?” he finished with an anxious look toward his guest.