“Ay,” said Duncan.  “It looks like it might be ane of thae fine-grained white anes that mak’ such grand furniture.”

When the body of the case was secure, Duncan made a door from the lid and fastened it with hinges.  He drove a staple, screwed on a latch, and gave Freckles a small padlock—­so that he might fasten in his treasures safely.  He made a shelf at the top for his books, and last of all covered the case with oil-cloth.

It was the first time in Freckles’ life that anyone ever had done that much for his pleasure, and it warmed his heart with pure joy.  If the interior of the box already had been covered with the rarest treasures of the Limberlost he could have been no happier.

When the big teamster stood back to look at his work he laughingly quoted, “‘Neat, but no’ gaudy,’ as McLean says.  All we’re, needing now is a coat of paint to make a cupboard that would turn Sarah green with envy.  Ye’ll find that safe an’ dry, lad, an’ that’s all that’s needed.”

“Mr. Duncan,” said Freckles, “I don’t know why you are being so mighty good to me; but if you have any jobs at the cabin that I could do for you or Mrs. Duncan, hours off the line, it would make me mighty happy.”

Duncan laughed.  “Ye needna feel ye are obliged to me, lad.  Ye mauna think I could take a half-day off in the best hauling season and go to town for boxes to rig up, and spend of my little for fixtures.”

“I knew Mr. McLean sent you,” said Freckles, his eyes wide and bright with happiness.  “It’s so good of him.  How I wish I could do something that would please him as much!”

“Why, Freckles,” said Duncan, as he knelt and began collecting his tools, “I canna see that it will hurt ye to be told that ye are doing every day a thing that pleases the Boss as much as anything ye could do.  Ye’re being uncommon faithful, lad, and honest as old Father Time.  McLean is trusting ye as he would his own flesh and blood.”

“Oh, Duncan!” cried the happy boy.  “Are you sure?”

“Why I know,” answered Duncan.  “I wadna venture to say so else.  In those first days he cautioned me na to tell ye, but now he wadna care.  D’ye ken, Freckles, that some of the single trees ye are guarding are worth a thousand dollars?”

Freckles caught his breath and stood speechless.

“Ye see,” said Duncan, “that’s why they maun be watched so closely.  They tak’, say, for instance, a burl maple—­bird’s eye they call it in the factory, because it’s full o’ wee knots and twists that look like the eye of a bird.  They saw it out in sheets no muckle thicker than writin’ paper.  Then they make up the funiture out of cheaper wood and cover it with the maple—­veneer, they call it.  When it’s all done and polished ye never saw onythin’ grander.  Gang into a retail shop the next time ye are in town and see some.  By sawin’ it thin that way they get finish for thousands of dollars’ worth of furniture from a single tree.  If ye dinna watch faithful, and Black Jack gets out a few he has marked, it means the loss of more money than ye ever dreamed of, lad.  The other night, down at camp, some son of Balaam was suggestin’ that ye might be sellin’ the Boss out to Jack and lettin’ him tak’ the trees secretly, and nobody wad ever ken till the gang gets here.”