NOVEMBER JOE
killed a moose. I found your candlestick too. Here it is." He took from his pocket the little piece of spruce stick, which had puzzled me so much, and turned towards me.
"This end's sharp to stick into the earth, that end's slit and you fix the candle in with a bit o' birch bark. Now it can go into the stove along o' the moccasins." He opened the stove door and thrust in the articles.
"Only three know your secret, Highamson, and if I was you I wouldn't make it four, not even by adding a woman to it."
Highamson held out his hand.
"You always was a white man, Nov," said he.
Hours later, as we sat drinking a final cup of tea at the camp-fire, I said:―
"After you examined Lyon's upper camp, you told me seven things about the murderer. You've explained how you knew them, all but three."
"What are the three?"
"First, how did you know that Highamson had been a long time in the woods without visiting a settlement?"
"His moccasins was wore out and patched
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