"What part of Oregon is his lumber claim located in?" "His money is in a company thet has miles and miles o' timber land along the big rivers. He told me the names, but I've forgotten 'em." "I've seen his lodge on Pine Tree Lake," said Owen. "It's a handsome place and must have cost a neat sum to build." "Twenty-five thousand dollars, so he told me. An' him an' his family aint there more'n two months out of twelve. Does beat all how some folks kin throw away money," concluded Philander Gannett, with a sigh. "I wish I could meet this Jefferson Wilbur," said Dale to Owen, when they were retiring to the bunk to which they had been assigned. "I'd like to ask him if he knows anything about that mine my father lost his money in." "Most likely he doesn't, Dale. Oregon is a big State, and the lumber people don't come much in contact with the miners, I guess. And, besides, this Wilbur is a Boston man, not a Westerner." The business that had brought Dale and Owen to the camp had been concluded before retiring, so there was nothing to keep the young lumbermen from starting on the return as soon as they arose on the morning following. They were given a hearty breakfast of pancakes, fried potatoes, salt fish, and coffee, and another lunch was stowed away in the basket they carried. Then came some letters for those at the Paxton camp, and away they went, with a crack of the whip, and a dozen men giving them a parting wave of the hand as they disappeared among the trees. The day was not as clear as they had anticipated. The sun was hidden by a number of dark clouds, and there was a damp feeling in the air, as of snow. "We'll be lucky if we get back before the storm lets down on us," observed Owen, with an anxious look at the sky. "And I shouldn't be surprised if the storm proved a heavy one." "Well, the team ought to make as good time getting back as they did in coming, Owen. And we needn't stop so long for dinner as we did yesterday." Dale walked ahead this time, and soon what they considered the most dangerous part of the road was passed. Then Dale hopped in beside his chum, and away they went, at the best speed the team could command. It lacked still an hour of noon when the first flakes of the coming storm fell upon them. They were large flakes, and floated down as lightly as so many feathers. Then they grew thicker and thicker, until the landscape on all sides was obscured by them. "We are going to have our hands full keeping to the road now," said Owen, shading his eyes with his palm. "I must say I can't see much." "The horses ought to know their own tracks." "That is true." Fifteen minutes went by, and the snow kept growing thicker and thicker. Owen was on the point of pulling up, when of a sudden one of the horses gave a snort and reared up violently. The act was so unexpected that Dale and Owen were completely astonished. Both clutched the lines and held on while the sleigh began to go backwards in a semicircle.