“You chaps helped me out, one time, when otherwise it would have been a finish for me. That’s one point. You brought me up against Bill Harmon, for which I thank you, and that’s point two. Point three is that I’m the one who is behind the big reservoir scheme--the man who puts up the money. Newport brought it to me in New York, and I took an option. I sent my experts to look it over. Uncle Bill made a fool of himself. My experts wired me and I came on, not only to look this project over, but to meet you two men who had befriended me. The two matters fitted into each other and I wished a rest; something to do besides piling up money.” He tossed the papers in his hand upon the table, and then pointed at them. “Those,” he said, “are the deeds to all the land in that part of the hills--the land that Hiram Newport pulled together and sold to me. It was to close the deal that I sent through you some letters and checks, which you mailed. The deeds you brought back. The whole of it is mine. But--listen now, and mark it down. It’s my word! It’s a thing I never break. “So long as Uncle Bill lives, he’s never to know that the land up there isn’t all his own! So long as he lives there’s never a tree in that gulch shall fall by the hand of any man! Never a dam be build across that brook! Never a bird’s nest be pulled down from a bough! Never a trout taken from the stream, without his consent. I don’t want nor need money of the kind that comes from an operation like that. Uncle Bill is to be unmolested as long as he lives--” He came to a full stop, stared at the table top, then at the amazed partners and said whimsically, “That is--unless I molest him, which, Heaven knows, I hope not to do! I’ve found a new hobby of my own. You two can help me out on that, maybe.” “What is it?” they blurted out, still mazed in wonderment. “I’d like to have you persuade him to let me build a big log addition to that cabin of his, up there in his and my gulch, and make it as comfortable as money can do, for Uncle Bill and me; something that he’d like and could enjoy. Some place that I can come to when I want to get away from making money, and meet nothing but a fine and honest, a homely and real old man. I can afford it. The big reservoir can wait. And”--he concluded impetuously--“I don’t care if it waits until both Uncle Bill and I are gone, because that place is ours--his and mine--and what any others may think will not matter to us at all! From now on Uncle Bill and I are partners in this thing --that is--if he’ll let me into a partnership that he is convinced includes at present himself and the Lord Almighty! A partnership like that can’t be beat, after all, and it’s about the only one for which I’m hankering.” [Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the December 7, 1920 issue of The Popular Magazine.]