"Thank you," he said, "for your kindness. I am sure you will be rewarded." "I don't want any reward. Out here we are always glad to give a meal of victuals to a stranger who needs it. Are you going to stay long in Oreville?" "If I can get anything to do I may. You see I am a poor man, and stand in pressing need of employment." "Keep up your courage! Something will turn up for you. I will ask my son if he cannot find something for you to do." "Thank you, sir. I will bid you good-by, with thanks for your kindness." "If you are not pressed for time, I will send you on an errand." "All right, sir. I shall be glad to be of service to you." "Here is a Mexican dollar. You may go to the store and bring me a dozen eggs. If there is any change you may keep it." "Thank you, sir." "A dollar in!" thought Burns, as he turned away from the cabin. "I think I can turn it to a better use than spending it in eggs. That was a profitable call. I made a gold watch and a dollar by it. The old man can't pursue me, that's one comfort, thanks to his spinal complaint." "That is a very clever fellow," reflected the old man when Burns had started on his errand. "A bit too religious to suit my taste. Still he seemed grateful for the little I did for him. If he had a little more push and get-up-and-get about him he would succeed better. Why, he isn't more than forty, and he confesses himself a failure. Why, at forty I considered myself a young man, and was full of dash and enterprise. Now I am sixty and tied to my seat by this spinal trouble. However, I've got something laid by, and, old as I am, I feel independent, as far as money goes." Half an hour--an hour--passed, and still the old man found himself alone. His messenger had not come back. But there came up the path a tall, muscular figure, who greeted the old man in a bluff, off hand way. "How are you, Luke?" said the old man. "I was feeling lonely. I am glad to see you." "Have you been alone since morning?" "Not quite all the time. I had quite a long call from a stranger." "A stranger!" repeated Luke, suspiciously. "What was his appearance?" The old man described Burns, and Luke knew him at once. "What did he say to you?" "That reminds me--he said he knew the boy whom Horace has put in the store--young Ray." "Did he?" "Yes, and he doesn't speak well of him." "What does he say about him?" "I don't like to tell you, Luke, for I believe he is a protege of yours." "Don't mind that. If there is anything to be said unfavorable of Ernest I ought to know it." "He says the boy robbed a store in which he was employed, and then pretended it was entered by thieves. It was on that account, he says, that the boy was compelled to leave the town where he lived and come to California." "Really, that is very interesting. To my own personal knowledge the boy was never before employed in a store, and he came out to California with me." "Then what could the man mean?"