The captain, who was a large, good-natured man, laughed noisily at the response and then said: “I guess you’re a Yankee?” “I am not a Yankee,” retorted Reuben. “I come from Pain Court.” “Whew!” whistled the captain. “You’re a youngster to be so far away from home. How old are you?” “I’ll be sixteen my next birthday.” “Is that so? You’ll be quite an old gentleman soon if you don’t look out. I guess you had better go back and tell your boss that we can strike up some kind of a deal, if he doesn’t want too much for his furs.” “Shall I take that message?” “Yes.” “Aren’t you going to write a letter?” “I hadn’t thought anything about it. Can you write?” “Yes,” answered Reuben. “Well, then, you write the letter. I’ll tell you what to say.” Suspecting that the handwriting of the captain was perhaps not of the best, Reuben obtained a quill pen and some paper and ink and soon had written a letter at the dictation of the man. Just why he should be asked to do this he did not understand, inasmuch as it would be as easy for him to report what was said as it was to write out the direct message of Captain White. However, he discreetly held his peace, and the following day, with the letter in his pocket, set forth on his return to camp. In spite of his determination to be brave, Reuben’s heart was beating rapidly when once more he rode into the ravine where the mountain lion had threatened to attack him. It was speedily manifest also that the pony had vivid recollections of his experiences in the narrow valley and was eager to be beyond its confines. Without any reluctance Reuben gave the hardy little beast free rein and at a rapid pace rode through the place of peril without any mishap. He maintained a keen outlook on both sides of the gorge, but did not discover any signs of the presence of the enemy which had so nearly attacked him two days before. Nor was Reuben molested in the remainder of his journey back to the camp. When he arrived he at once delivered his message and explained to Kit Carson and others the questions which Captain White had asked him. “We can fix this all right,” said Kit Carson quickly. “I think we have skins enough to fill the hold of the _Charming Nancy_ so that neither Captain White nor her owners will have any reason to complain.” Several days elapsed, however, before the bargain was completed. In this time the scout himself went to San Gabriel and had two or three personal interviews with the jovial sea captain. When Kit Carson returned, Reuben was particularly interested in the description he gave of an attack which had been made upon him by the mountain lion. “Where did you find him?” inquired Reuben. “Why, it was among the foothills about seven or eight miles this side of San Gabriel.” “That’s exactly where I met one. Did you kill it?” “I think so,” replied Kit Carson quietly. “The beast crept up behind me and I had all I could do to keep my pony from running away with me.”