THE sun rose clear next morning. Although a long shower of rain had come one could see no sign of it save in the drifted leaves. The earth had drunk it down quickly and seemed to be drying with its own heat. Strong felt the soil and the leaves. He blew and shook his head with surprise.

While the others lay sleeping in their tent, he made a fire and set out in quest of a spring. Half a mile or so up the lake shore a bear broke out of a thicket of young firs just ahead of him. Strong was caught again without his rifle. Satan came as swiftly as the bear had fled, but could not prevail against him. Strong was delighted with this chance of showing the strength of his new purpose. In among the fir-trees he found the carcass of a buck upon which the bear had been feeding.

"P-paunchers!" Strong muttered.

He climbed the side of the ridge and presently struck the trail leading into camp. Soon he could hear some one coming, and sat on a log and waited. It was Master, who had gone to Lost River camp and then followed the trail of the boat-jumper.

"Slept last night in a lean-to over on the Middle Branch," said he. "Been travelling since an hour before daylight and I'm hungry."

"N-news from the gal?"

"No. Have you?"

Strong shook his head solemnly. "They've t-took the hills, an' I've come over here t' work fer Uncle S-sam," said he.

"Warden?"

"Uh-huh—been app'inted," Strong answered, with a look of sadness and satisfaction.

"They're very cunning—Wilbert and the rest of them," Master said. "They've put a little salve on you and sent you out of the way. You're too serious-minded for them. That dynamite trick of yours set 'em all thinking. They won't keep you here long—you're too dead in earnest. But there's room enough for you over in the Clear Lake country, and when they get ready to shove you out come and be at home with us."

A moment of silence followed. The simple mind of the woodsman was looking deep into the darkness that surrounded the throne of the great king.

"You're camp looks as if it had been struck by lightning," Master added.

Strong showed the letter containing his appointment, and told of the threat to hang him up by the heels.

"The commissioner is on the square—he means well," said Master, "but they're using him. These lumbermen intend to drive you out of the woods, and they've got you headed for the clearing. You won't stay here long. In my opinion they'll burn this valley."

Strong looked into the face of the young man.

"What makes ye think so?" he asked.

"Because they want the timber, and because they've got you here," said Master. "I heard of your appointment. I heard, too, that Joe Socket and Pop Migley and Dennis Mulligan thought you were the right man for the place. I knew there'd be something doing, and I came in here to warn you. Don't ever trust the benevolence of Satan."

"By—" Strong paused and gave his thigh a slap. "I know w-what they're up to," he muttered, thoughtfully. "They'll make it too hot f-fer m-me here."

He told of the fire and the man who fled in the bushes.

"They're going to fire the valley, and don't intend to give you time to sit down," said Master. "It's a dangerous country just now."

"Have t' take Sinth an' the ch-childem out o' here r-right off," the hunter answered. "If you'll stay with 'em t'-day, I'll go an' g-git some duffle an' we'll p-put over the r-ridge with 'em t'-night."

Back at the old camp there were things he needed sorely, and he reckoned that he could make the round trip with a pack-basket by five in the afternoon.

"It's still and the leaves are d-damp," Strong mused. "Fire wouldn't run much t'-day."

"To-morrow I'll get a force of men and we'll surround this valley," said Master.

They hurried into camp and were greeted with merry cries. Soon they were sitting on a blanket beside the others, eating in the ancient fashion of the pioneer.

The young man had brought a letter from Gordon which contained a sum of money and welcome news. Sinth read the letter aloud.

"'My dear friends,'" she read, "'I had hoped to write you long ago, but I have been waiting for better news to tell. My struggle is over and I am now master of myself. I paid to my creditors all the money you gave me.'"

"Did you give him money?" Sinth looked up to inquire.

"Uh-huh," Strong answered.

"How much?"

"All I had."

"You're a fool!" Sinth exclaimed, and went on reading as follows:'

"'Socky had given me his little tin bank. It contained just a dollar and thirty-two cents. The sacred sum paid my fare to Benson Falls and bought my dinner. I got a job there in the mill and soon I expect to be its manager. I'm a new man. If you want a job I can place you here at good pay. In a week or two I shall—'"

Sinth stopped reading and covered her face with her apron.

"What does it s-say?" Silas inquired, soberly.

She handed the letter to him, and he read the last words: "'I shall come after the children and will then pay you in full with interest. No, I can never pay you in full, for there's something better than money that I owe you.'" Strong's face changed color. He dropped the letter and rose.

"W-well," he stammered.

"He sha'n't have 'em," said Sinth, decisively. "Tut, tut!" Silas answered.

He raised the boy in his arms and kissed him. "W-we're both f-fools," he said, huskily.

"You ain't exac'ly fools, but yer both childern," said Sinth, wiping her eyes.

"Well, you know the Bible says we must become as a little child," said Master. "After all, money is only a measure of value, and one thing it does with absolute precision—a man's money measures the depth of his heart."