“Come, Jim, I’ll take you to Mr. Wells.”

They stated across the little square, while Mose went back under the wagon; but at a word from Joe he bounded after them, trotting contentedly at their heels.  Half way to the cabins a big, raw-boned teamster, singing in a drunken voice, came staggering toward them.  Evidently he had just left the group of people who had gathered near the Indians.

“I didn’t expect to see drunkenness out here,” said Jim, in a low tone.

“There’s lots of it.  I saw that fellow yesterday when he couldn’t walk.  Wentz told me he was a bad customer.”

The teamster, his red face bathed in perspiration, and his sleeves rolled up, showing brown, knotty arms, lurched toward them.  As they met he aimed a kick at the dog; but Mose leaped nimbly aside, avoiding the heavy boot.  He did not growl, nor show his teeth; but the great white head sank forward a little, and the lithe body crouched for a spring.

“Don’t touch that dog; he’ll tear your leg off!” Joe cried sharply.

“Say, pard, cum an’ hev’ a drink,” replied the teamster, with a friendly leer.

“I don’t drink,” answered Joe, curtly, and moved on.

The teamster growled something of which only the word “parson” was intelligible to the brothers.  Joe stopped and looked back.  His gray eyes seemed to contract; they did not flash, but shaded and lost their warmth.  Jim saw the change, and, knowing what it signified, took Joe’s arm as he gently urged him away.  The teamster’s shrill voice could be heard until they entered the fur-trader’s cabin.

An old man with long, white hair flowing from beneath his wide-brimmed hat, sat near the door holding one of Mrs. Wentz’s children on his knee.  His face was deep-lined and serious; but kindness shone from his mild blue eyes.

“Mr. Wells, this is my brother James.  He is a preacher, and has come in place of the man you expected from Williamsburg.”

The old minister arose, and extended his hand, gazing earnestly at the new-comer meanwhile.  Evidently he approved of what he saw in his quick scrutiny of the other’s face, for his lips were wreathed with a smile of welcome.

“Mr. Downs, I am glad to meet you, and to know you will go with me.  I thank God I shall take into the wilderness one who is young enough to carry on the work when my days are done.”

“I will make it my duty to help you in whatsoever way lies in my power,” answered Jim, earnestly.

“We have a great work before us.  I have heard many scoffers who claim that it is worse than folly to try to teach these fierce savages Christianity; but I know it can be done, and my heart is in the work.  I have no fear; yet I would not conceal from you, young man, that the danger of going among these hostile Indians must be great.”

“I will not hesitate because of that.  My sympathy is with the redman.  I have had an opportunity of studying Indian nature and believe the race inherently noble.  He has been driven to make war, and I want to help him into other paths.”