He had no respect for Thomas Buffum, yet there was the thought that he was taking away from him one of the sources of his income.

He would not like to have Buffum suppose that he could be guilty of a mean act, or capable of making an ungrateful return for hospitality.

Still he did not doubt his own motives, or his ability to do good to Paul Benedict and his boy.
It was nearly ten miles from Jim's cabin, down the winding river, to the point where he was to hide his boat, and take to the road which would lead him to the house of Mike Conlin, half way to Sevenoaks.

Remembering before he started that the blind cart-road over which he must bring his patient was obstructed at various points by fallen trees, he brought along his axe, and found himself obliged to spend the whole day on his walk, and in clearing the road for the passage of a wagon.

It was six o'clock before he reached Mike's house, the outermost post of the "settlement," which embraced in its definition the presence of women and children.
"Be gorry," said Mike, who had long been looking for him, "I was afeared ye'd gi'en it up.