Three letters she wrote, and tore to scraps, before one was finally composed to express all she felt, in the way that she wished it expressed.  Old Billy went off to wait and returned there duly, enormously pleased by his commission.  He knew the way to the “Laughing Water” claim and could ride the borrowed pony.

As pleased as a dog with a parcel of meat, entrusted to his keeping by a confident master, he finally started for the hay-yard, with two dainty letters in his keeping.  One was to Van, with Beth’s request; the other was, of course, to her brother.

Bostwick met the proud old beau at the corner of the street.

“Say, Uncle, what did I tell you,” said Billy at once.  “This time it’s the biggest errand yet.”

Bostwick had wondered if he might not catch Mr. Stitts in some such service as he boasted now, and his wit was worthy of his nature.

“Yes,” he said readily, “Miss Kent was saying she thought perhaps she could get you to carry a note to Mr. Van Buren.”  It was a hazardous coup but he dared it with the utmost show of pleasure in his smile.  For a second, however, as he watched the old man’s face, he feared he had overshot the mark.

Old Billy was pleased and disappointed together.  However, his wish to prove his importance greatly outweighed his chagrin that Beth should have taken even “Uncle” Bostwick into her confidence.

“That ain’t all she give me,” he announced, as foolishly as a child.  “I’ve got her letter to her brother, over to Starlight, too, and nothin’ couldn’t stop me from takin’ it up to the ‘Laughing Water’ claim.  You bet I’ll see Van Buren gits it right into his hand from me!”

If Bostwick had contemplated making an attempt to bribe the old beau into permitting him a glance at the letters, he abandoned the thought with sagacious alacrity.  He must think of something safer.  A letter to Van Buren and one to Glen was more than he had counted on discovering.  It made him decidedly uneasy.

“I’m sure you’ll deliver everything safely,” he said, masking his annoyance with a smile.  “Before you go, perhaps, you’d take something to drink.”

The suggestion in his mind was crude, but at least it was something.

“Huh!” said old Billy, “Me!—­drink and git a jag when she’s expectin’ me to hike right out of camp?  Guess you don’t know me, Uncle, not worth a mice!  Didn’t I say nuthin’ couldn’t stop me?  And I’m goin’ right now.”

He clapped his bony old hand over his pocket, where the two precious letters reposed, and winking prodigiously at Bostwick, departed forthwith from the scene.

Bostwick could have run him down, beaten him to the ground and snatched the letters from him, but he did not dare.  Instead, he merely continued to grin while Billy remained in sight.  Then instead of going on to Beth’s, he circled a building and returned down street towards McCoppet’s.