"I think I'll just let the boss believe I'm still in the river until after I have had a talk with Appleton. By the way, Daddy, how are you fixed for money?" "Sure, Oi got more money thin a man ought to have--money in th' bank an' money in me pocket--take ut an' welcome"--he tossed a thick wallet onto the table--"ondly ye won't have to go to Minneapolis. "Owld man Appleton's over to Creighton, eighty moiles wesht av here, sooperintindin' a new camp on Blood River, wan hundred an' tin moiles above Moncrossen's. Fallon's wid um, an' Shtromberg, an' a lot more av th' good min that's toired av worrkin' undher Moncrossen." "He is not bossing the camp himself!" exclaimed Bill. "No, but he's got to kape an eye on't. Fallon'll be a kind av shtraw boss an' luk afther th' wor-rk, but th' owld man'll have to figger th' toime an' th' scale--Fallon ain't got no aggicatin'. "'Tis roight glad Oi'm thinkin' th' owld man'll be to lay eyes on ye. They say he wuz all bruk up phwin he heerd ye wuz dhr-rounded." Bill's visit to Hilarity was known to no one except Daddy Dunnigan, and the following evening after Moncrossen's departure for the woods, the two proceeded to the railway by a circuitous route. Unobserved, he swung aboard the caboose of the local freight-train which stood at the tiny platform, discharging goods. "He'll be afther makin' ye boss av th' new camp," opined the old man from his position beside a pile of ties. "An' av ye nade a cook just dhrop me a loine an' Oi'll come." "I haven't got the job yet," laughed Bill. "But ye will. Owld Appleton'll be glad enough not havin' to come thrapsin' into th' woods ivery month or so durin' th' winther." The old man leaned forward upon his crutch, and with pathetic eagerness scanned the face of the younger man. "Me b'y," he said, "av yer plans is changed--wor-rd from th' gir-rl, or what not, that'll be takin' ye back to Noo Yor-rk--ye'll take me wid ye? "Oi may be a bit owld, but Oi'm as good as iver Oi wuz. Oi c'd lear-rn to run yer otymobile er take care av th' harses, er moind th' babies, ut makes no difference; for whilst a McKim lives owld Dunnigan belongs to luk afther um." "Never fear, Daddy!" cried Bill, as the train jerked into motion. "Now that we've found each other, we'll stick together until the end." And he stood silent upon the steps of the caboose until the figure of the old Irishman blended into the background. In the front room of the one-story building with its undeceptive two-story front, where Appleton had established his headquarters in the little town of Creighton, the lumber magnate sat talking with Irish Fallon. The tote-road leading to the new camp had been pushed to completion, and Appleton was giving Fallon some final instructions. "I must leave for Minneapolis in the morning," he said. "Do the best you can, and I will run up as often as possible."