He broke off and grabbed Frank's arm as the latter moved toward the other side of the stump. "Come back!" he warned. "The gas is hanging about yet." Frank noticed a rather unpleasant smell, and was conscious of a pain in his head, but it passed off as they crossed the clearing together. As it was getting too dark to work, Mr. Oliver and Jake joined them before they reached the house. They changed their clothes when they went in, and after toiling in the rain all day Frank was glad to sit down dressed in dry things at the well-spread table. The room was very cozy with its bright lamp and snapping stove, and the doleful wail of the wind and the thrashing of the rain outside emphasized its cheerfulness. He felt languidly content with himself and the simple, strenuous life he led. For the most part, though they had occasional adventures, it was an uneventful one, and some time had passed since they had heard anything of the dope runners. He wondered what had become of them, or if they had found smuggling unprofitable and had given it up. Supper was about half finished when there was a knock at the door and the dog rose with a growl. Harry seized the animal's collar just as a man appeared in the entrance. His clothes were black with water and a trickle of it ran from the brim of the soft hat he held in one hand. He was a young man and the paleness of his face suggested that he was from the cities. "Is it far to Carthew Creek?" he inquired. "Eight or nine miles," Mr. Oliver replied. "The trail's very bad and you'll have some trouble in keeping it on a night like this. Have you any reason for going straight through?" "I believe a steamboat calls to-morrow and I thought of going back with her. I've had about enough of these bush trails." "Then we'll put you up," said Mr. Oliver obligingly. "You can get on again first thing in the morning. You're wet enough now, aren't you?" The stranger admitted that he was, but seemed to hesitate. "I don't want to trouble Miss Oliver," he said. "Still, as it happens, I've a message for you." Mr. Oliver said that he would give him some dry clothes, and the two withdrew to get them. They came back a few minutes later and sat down at the table. The stranger made an excellent meal, and Mr. Oliver waited until he had finished before he asked a question: "Have you walked in?" "From the settlement," the other answered. "As I expected to get back by the steamboat, I left my hired horse with Porteous at the store." "Porteous doesn't keep the store." "The other fellow got hurt chopping a week or so ago. A log or a big branch fell on him, and they sent him off to Seattle. Porteous is running the business until he gets better." Frank fancied that Mr. Oliver was displeased at this, but there was no change in his manner toward his visitor. "Is he running the post office, too?" he asked. "Oh, yes. I had to tell him something about a letter."