The wind howled through the branches of the trees above our heads, makin' us pull our blankets closer about us an' draw as nigh to the fire as possible.
"Ole Bill sat, as usual, leanin' his head on his hands, an' lookin' steadily into the fire.

Neither of us had spoken for more than an hour.

At len'th the ole man raised his head, an' broke the silence by sayin', "'Dick, you have allers been a good friend to me, an' have stuck by me like a brother, through thick an' thin, an', I s'pose, you think it is mighty unkind in me to keep any thing from you; an' so it is.

An' now I'll tell you all.' "He paused a moment, an', wipin' the perspiration from his forehead with his coat-sleeve, continued, a'most in a whisper, "'Dick, I was not allers as you see me now--all alone in the world.
Once I was the happiest boy west of the mountains.

My father was a trader, livin' on the Colorado River, I had a kind mother, two as handsome sisters as the sun ever shone on, an' my brother was one of the best trappers, for a boy, I ever see.