The meal finished, Ba'tiste went forth once more, to the hunt of a bear trap and its deadfall, dragged away by a mountain lion during the last snow.

Barry sought again the bench outside the cabin, to sit there waiting and hoping,--in vain.

At last came evening, and he undressed laboriously for a long rest.

Something awaited him in Tabernacle,--either the opening of a book of schemes, or at least the explanation of a mystery, and that meant a walk of quite two miles, the exercise of muscles which still ached, the straining of tendons drawn by injury and pain.

But when the time came, he was ready.
"_Bon_--good!" came from Ba'tiste, as they turned into the little village of Tabernacle the next day, skirted the two clapboarded stores forming the "main business district," and edged toward the converted box car that passed as a station.