“You said you wouldn’t speak of it again, Bill.”

“Well, where was I?  Oh, yes!  I kept well behind Hoyt, and when he sat down and let the other man go on ahead, there was nothing for me to do but to sit down, too.  So I did, and we waited that way for a good while.  Then Little Dick, as you call him, came back and took Hoyt away with him, and I could see that he was half-mad about something.  I began to have a hard time after that, for we left the trees and got among the rocks, and, in fact, I lost them and lost my way, and I don’t suppose I should ever have found it again if I had not seen Little Dick going down the mountain.  I watched where he went, and then took the up road after Hoyt; and that brought me here, and that’s all.  But if I never do it again, Harry, I want to shake hands with you.”

Harry shook hands laughingly, for there was something whimsical in Bill that put him in a laughing mood.  He had never supposed Bill had so much fun in him; and, perhaps, in the old days Bill had not known it, either.  But an honest life, and since then the thought that he was doing good for the boy who had saved Beth’s life, had had a very developing effect on him.

They talked a great deal more after that, each giving more details about himself, but Bill insisting on hearing most about Harry, and what he had done and where he had been, and his interest in Missoo was simply intense.

“You shall see him, to-night,” promised Harry.  “We will go down now, keeping out of sight as much as we can, and I will take you right to his room.  He’ll be wondering where I am.  He said he’d like to see you.”

“See me!” cried Bill, pleasure and surprise about equally divided.  “What does he know about me?”

“Why, I told him how you saved my life, of course.”

They walked down, and Harry led Bill to the house where Missoo was lying in bed.  He was much better, but was not able to go about, though he chafed at the notion of Big Missouri being laid up with “a burnt spot on his back.”

“I was gettin’ lonesome, Gent,” he said.  “Who’s yer friend?” and he eyed Bill over carefully.

“Did you ever hear me speak of Bill Green?” asked Harry.

Missoo lifted himself up on his elbow and looked at Bill.

“Not Bill Green, thet got ye outen thet burnin’ mill?” he questioned, to Bill’s extravagant delight to think that the great, the famous Missoo had actually kept his name in his memory.

“The very same Bill Green,” assured Harry.

“Bill, shake!” said Missoo, briefly.  And when he had shaken the hand of the delighted Bill, he held it for a moment, and said to him, “Bill, when ye saved the life o’ thet thar Gent, ye saved my life, too, which is wuthless, an’ ye saved the lives o’ twenty men, some o’ them with babbies, ‘n some o’ them with mothers.  Shet up, Gent; I’m talkin’!  Ye saved the life, Bill, of a feller what’s sand—­emery sand, which is the best kind—­what’s sand down to his toes.  Bill, I’m proud to take ye by the hand; ’n I bet ye’ve got sand yerself.”