“Yis,” said Freckles simply.

But McLean could see the flesh was twitching on the lad’s bones.

“What was it the guard brought there?” McLean asked in an effort to distract Freckles’ thoughts.

“Oh!” Freckles said, glancing where the Boss pointed, “I forgot it!  ’Tis an otter, and fine past believing, for this warm weather.  I shot it at the creek this morning.  ’Twas a good shot, considering.  I expected to miss.”

Freckles picked up the animal and started toward McLean with it, but Nellie pricked up her dainty little ears, danced into the swale, and snorted with fright.  Freckles dropped the otter and ran to her head.

“For pity’s sake, get her on the trail, sir,” he begged.  “She’s just about where the old king rattler crosses to go into the swamp—­the old buster Duncan and I have been telling you of.  I haven’t a doubt but it was the one Mother Duncan met.  ’Twas down the trail there, just a little farther on, that I found her, and it’s sure to be close yet.”

McLean slid from Nellie’s back, led her into the trail farther down the line, and tied her to a bush.  Then he went to examine the otter.  It was a rare, big specimen, with exquisitely fine, long, silky hair.

“What do you want to do with it, Freckles?” asked McLean, as he stroked the soft fur lingeringly.  “Do you know that it is very valuable?”

“I was for almost praying so, sir,” said Freckles.  “As I saw it coming up the bank I thought this:  Once somewhere in a book there was a picture of a young girl, and she was just a breath like the beautifulness of the Angel.  Her hands were in a muff as big as her body, and I thought it was so pretty.  I think she was some queen, or the like.  Do you suppose I could have this skin tanned and made into such a muff as that?—­an enormous big one, sir?”

“Of course you can,” said McLean.  “That’s a fine idea and it’s easy enough.  We must box and express the otter, cold storage, by the first train.  You stand guard a minute and I’ll tell Hall to carry it to the cabin.  I’ll put Nellie to Duncan’s rig, and we’ll drive to town and call on the Angel’s father.  Then we’ll start the otter while it is fresh, and I’ll write your instructions later.  It would be a mighty fine thing for you to give to the Angel as a little reminder of the Limberlost before it is despoiled, and as a souvenir of her trip for you.”

Freckles lifted a face with a glow of happy color creeping into it and eyes lighting with a former brightness.  Throwing his arms around McLean, he cried:  “Oh, how I love you!  Oh, I wish I could make you know how I love you!”

McLean strained him to his breast.

“God bless you, Freckles,” he said.  “I do know!  We’re going to have some good old times out of this world together, and we can’t begin too soon.  Would you rather sleep first, or have a bite of lunch, take the drive with me, and then rest?  I don’t know but sleep will come sooner and deeper to take the ride and have your mind set at ease before you lie down.  Suppose you go.”