NOVEMBER JOE
had never been successful in discovering the identity of the avenger of Big Tree Portage. The two seemed very happy together, but I must acknowledge that I feared from what I saw that the beautiful Janey would not continue to bear the name of Lyon much longer. I said as much to November Joe as we were walking back.
"That's nature," said he. "Old man Highamson told me that neither Baxter Gurd nor Miller don't give her no peace. Well, I guess a woman's better married anyway."
"How about a man, Joe?" I asked.
"It may be all right for them as don't get the pull o' the woods too strong, but for him that's heard the loons calling on the lakes, 't is different someway."
"Yet there are some very pretty girls, Joe."
"You've seen more than I have, Mr. Quaritch," said Joe, laughingly; "but you don't get no telegrams from Mrs. Quaritch telling you to come home and sing to baby."
To this too trenchant remark I could think of no immediate reply, and we continued our way for some time in silence. It was drawing on
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