You read while I rustle some grub for you." Moore scanned the addresses on the several envelopes and sighed.
"From home! I hate to read them." "Why ?" queried Wade.
"Oh, because when I wrote I didn't tell them I was hurt.

I feel like a liar." "It's just as well, Wils, because you swear you'll not go home." "Me?
I should smile not....

Bent--I--I--hoped Collie might answer the note you took her from me." "Not yet.

Wils, give the lass time." "Time?
Heavens! it's three weeks and more." "Go ahead an' read your letters or I'll knock you on the head with one of these chunks," ordered Wade, mildly.
The hunter soon had the room warm and cheerful, with steaming breakfast on the red-hot coals.

Presently, when he made ready to serve Moore, he was surprised to find the boy crying over one of the letters.
"Wils, what's the trouble ?" he asked.
"Oh, nothing.