Seth paused to light his pipe. His manner was exquisitely simple. The narration of the story of the girl's good fortune appeared to give him the keenest pleasure. Nevil removed his pipe from his lips and sat chewing the end of his ragged moustache. There was an ugly look in his eyes as he contemplated the ashes of his fire. He might have been staring at the ashes of his own fortunes. However, he contrived a faint smile when he spoke. "Then I s'pose you've found out her real name?" "Sure. Marjorie Raynor. Her father was Colonel Landor Raynor." "Ah." "An' ther' ain't no question o' the dollars. She hain't no near folk 'cep' an uncle, Stephen Raynor, an' he don't figger anyways, 'cause the dollars are left to her by will. He only comes in, the lawyer feller says, if the gal was to die, or--or get killed." Seth had become quite reflective; he seemed to find a curious pleasure in thus discussing the girl he loved with a man he at no time had any use for. Nevil stared uneasily. A quick, furtive glance at Seth, who at that moment seemed to be watching his horse, gave an inkling of his passing thought. If a look could kill Seth would certainly have been a dead man. "So the whole thing's a dead cinch for her?" "Yup. Now." Nevil gave a short laugh. "You mean--that matter with Little Black Fox. But she brought it on herself. She encouraged him." Seth was round on him in a twinkling. "Maybe he was encouraged--but not by her." "Who then?" There was unmistakable derision in the wood-cutter's tone. Seth shrugged. A shadowy smile played round his lips, but his eyes were quite serious. "That's it," he said, relapsing into his reflective manner, "the whole thing's mighty curious. Them law fellers in your country are smartish. They've located a deal. Don't jest know how. They figger that uncle feller is around either this State or Minnesota--likely this one, seein' the Colonel was comin' this aways when he got killed. We got yarnin', an' he was sayin' he thought o' huntin' out this uncle. I guessed ther' wa'an't much need, an' it might set him wantin' the dollars. The law feller said he wouldn't get 'em anyhow--'cep' the gal was dead. We kind o' left it at that. Y' see the whole thing for the uncle hung around that gal--bein' dead." "And you think he might have had something----" Nevil's words came slowly, like a man who realizes the danger of saying too much. "Wal, it don't seem possible, I guess. Them two was killed by the Injuns, sure. An' she--I guess she ain't never seen him." A slight sigh escaped Nevil. "That's so," he said deliberately. "Howsum, I guess I'm goin' to look around for this feller. Y' see Rosebud's li'ble to like him. Mebbe he ain't well heeled for dollars, an' she's that tender-hearted she might--I've got his pictur'. Mebbe I'll show it around--eh, what's up?" Seth inquired in his blandest tone.