Down-stream a little the ox took his place again at the bow of the boat-jumper. They struck off into thick woods reaching far and wide on the acres of Uncle Sam. A mile or so inland they came to Rainbow Trail, and thereafter followed it. Timber thieves had been cutting big pines and spruces and had left a slash on either side of the trail. The travellers dipped down across the edge of a wide valley, and after climbing again were in the midst of burned ground on the top of a high ridge. Below them they could see Rainbow Lake and the undulating canopy of a great, two-storied forest reaching to hazy distances. Mighty towers of spruce and pine and hemlock rose into the sunlit, upper heavens. It was growing dusk when, below them and well off the trail, they saw a column of smoke rising. They halted, and Strong stood gazing. The smoke grew in volume and he made off down the side of the ridge. He came in sight of the fire and stopped. Some one had fled through thickets of young spruce and Zeb was pursuing him. Strong looked off in the gloomy forest and shouted a fierce oath at its invisible enemy. Near him flames were leaping above a fallen top and running in tiny jets over dry duff like the waste of a fountain. Swiftly Strong cut branches of green birch and began to lay about him. He stopped the flames and then dug with his hatchet until he struck sand. He scooped it into his hat and soon smothered the cinders. His face had a troubled expression as he returned to the boat-jumper. "Who you been yellin' at?" Sinth asked. "C-careless cuss," he answered, evasively. Socky wore a look of indignation. He glibly repeated the oath which he had heard his uncle use. "Hush! The Sundayman'll ketch you," Sinth answered, severely. Strong gave a whistle of surprise. "Uncle Silas ain't 'fraid o' no Sundayman," Socky guessed. "Y-yes I be--could kill me with a s-snap of his finger," Strong declared. Socky trembled as he thought of that one inhabitant of the earth who was greater than his Uncle Silas and said no more. "S-see here, boy," said Strong, as he put his fingers under Socky's chin and raised his head' a little, "I w-won't never swear ag'in if y-you won't." He held out his great hand and Socky took it. "Y-you agree?" Socky nodded with a serious look, and so it happened that Silas became the master of his own tongue. He had "boiled over" for the last time--so he thought. The old habit which had grown out of a thousand trials and difficulties must give way, and henceforth he would be emperor of his own spirit.