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Updated: September 4, 2025
If that's so, this letter is for you, also this cargo." And so the delivery was made. Bill Bymus has not delivered the other letter to this day. Presumably he went to stay with his sister, but she saw little of him, for his stay at Albany was, as usual, one long spree.
But they came out safely, cargo and all, and landed at Warren's alive and well on the twenty-first day since leaving. Bill had recovered his usual form. Gravely and with pride he marched up to Warren and handed out a large letter which read outside, "Bill of Lading," and when opened, read: "The bearer of this, Bill Bymus, is no good. Don't trust him to Albany any more.
And providing I'm well pleased and have good hunting, I'll give you fifty dollars more when I get back to Albany." "I'd like much to be your guide," said Rolf, "but I have a partner. I must find out if he's willing." "Ye don't mean-that drunken Bill Bymus?" "No! my hunting partner; he's an Indian." Then, after a pause, he added, "You wouldn't go in fly-time, would you?"
And very soon, a tall, ruddy man appeared at the dock. He was a Dutchman in name only. At first sight he was much like the other loafers, but was bigger, and had a more business-like air when observed near at hand. "Are you from Warren's?" "Yes, sir." "Alone?" "No, sir. I came with Bill Bymus. But he went off early this morning; I haven't seen him since. I'm afraid he's in trouble."
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