Aware that Alden had been looking and listening through the chinks of the hut, Durgan wandered out in a slow detour among the trees, and brought Alden back with him. When they entered, the stranger was not looking toward the door. "This is Mr. Theodore Alden, of New York," said Durgan; and altho the visitor only appeared to indolently turn his head and bow, Durgan felt sure that his whole body started and shrank under the heavy folds of his long coat. "Mr. Courthope has come," began Durgan, and then, with indifferent manner, he repeated the story of Mr. Courthope of New Orleans. He could see that Alden had as yet no scent. "Are you aware," began Alden, "that the other negro apprehended for this murder is being protected by his late owner upon the same grounds? It is not a usual proceeding; I might almost say--speaking from a wide knowledge of the South since the war--a novel proceeding. To have it repeated is a novel coincidence." There was a little silence in which Durgan and Alden both observed the stranger narrowly, and neither felt sure whether his pause was caused by the inattentive habits of illness, or whether he was silent from annoyance. It would appear to have been the first, for, after again warming his legs and again rubbing his hands before the blaze, he lifted his head as if he had just observed that he had not replied. "I beg your pardon--a bad habit of mine, forgetting to answer. As to coincidence, it isn't coincidence at all. My nigger writes to me what a Mr. Durgan is doing for the other nigger, and sends me a local paper, saying in effect how much better the Durgans are than the Courthopes. I acted on impulse--we Courthopes always do. It's the way of the world, you know--we should never do anything if it wasn't for trying to show that we are as good, or one better, than someone else. But if I'd known that folks here all lived on different mountains, I'd have let the Durgans have the field. Devilish cold at this altitude." As he turned from the fire to speak he shivered, pushed up his collar still higher, and pulled his hat down almost to his eyes. He turned again to the fire. "Desperately cold up here," he repeated. "What's the name of this mountain?" he suddenly demanded. They told him. "'Deer Mountain.' I thought the driver said 'Bear Mountain.' I'm sure the nigger told me to come up 'Bear.'" "There is a peak of that name further off," said Alden. "Ah, well, I must say I am relieved to find I've not come on a fool's errand, but have achieved my purpose and discovered our friend, Mr. Alden, altho on another mountain. Odd place this, where mountains have to be reckoned like streets or squares. Well, Mr. Alden, my business is just this: I'm willing to pay anything in reason, and you can use bribery and corruption, or talent, or villainy, or anything else you like as long as you get my man off. There is my card; and if you'll agree to undertake it, I'd better drive back to the last village and try to get a bed."