Eh, Golemar ?" He shouted to the dog, trotting, as usual, beside the buggy.

"Mebbe we have a, what-you-say, punch of luck." Then, silent, he leaned over the reins.

Houston too was quiet, striving in vain to find a way out of the difficulties that beset him.
At the end of half an hour he looked up in surprise.

They no longer were on the way to the mill.

The road had become rougher, hillier, and Houston recognized the stream and the aspen groves which fringed the highway leading to Ba'tiste's cabin.