"Yes." The settler cast a sweeping glance behind him, as though he feared the young man’s incautious tone might have reached some eavesdropper lurking in the thicket, and screening his mouth with his hand, echoed softly, "My petrified man." "It’s true," said the teacher gravely; "he is excavating a petrified man. I’ve seen it, or rather parts of it. He keeps it in a blue chest with a padlock under my bed." Martha rose with suppressed energy, and lifting a bough, laid it on the fire. "He’s be’n nigh onter all winter an’ spring gettin’ out ther legs an’ arms," she said, resuming her place, "but he calc’lates ef he kin only find ther hull thing ther’s folks ’ud pay consider’ble fur it." "I ’lowed mebbe, fur instance," explained Myers, "that ther museum ter Washington, what that Gov’ment man was talkin’ ’bout last year when he was stoppin’ here, would give me er pretty good price. He says they buy up old bones o’ anything curious or over-sized." "No doubt," said Forrest slowly, "no doubt. But I believe, Eben, the time spent on your ranch would count for more. That’s a fine meadow you have, and a few additional acres cleared and seeded with alfalfa would mean almost riches to you." Myers struck a match and, screening it with his hand, lighted his pipe. Martha watched him. Her lips twitched a little and an unspoken appeal rose in her anxious eyes. She only said, presently, "Mebbe he’s right, Eben. That ther meadow’s be’n a mighty good pasture. Before we hed it you used to spend er sight o’ time drivin’ ther cattle over here to ther south slope in ther cold spells. Onct," she paused, looking off through the great natural park, "when Lem was a baby I kem over ther hills an’ toted him in my lap. It commenced ter snow an’ I lost ther trail." "An’ it was yonder," said Eben, pointing riverward, "close onter that ther black snag, I found her. She’d hitched ther cayuse an’ took off his pack, an’ Lem, ther little bugger, was did up in er extry blanket, peart as er chipmunk in er hole. She was settin’ down by er good fire a eatin’ her supper." Martha smiled, her shadowy, brief smile. "I counted on his lookin’ fur me," she said, "an’ ’lowed he’d scent the bacon. His rations was erbout give out." The long Northern twilight deepened; the nearer trees stood out tall and spectral against vague shadow; a bat with low swoops approached and was lost in the gloom; a white owl settled, dazed, on a fir bough, and from time to time mingled his hoot with the note of the cataract. Once the sound of sliding rock came from some high shoulder and was followed by a rush of earth lower on the slope. Alice leaned back comfortably on an old cedar trunk with chairlike arms, and lifted her face, listening. "How the hills answer each other," she said; "every sound multiplies."