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Inside the cabin a , Long Way to Tipperary" Outside, another whistled softly to hi tackle Fro them to the leader Nearest the rod he put a royal coacher quill

The cook, having put his biscuits in the oven, filled the doorway He was a big, strong-set man, with a face of leather Rolled-up sleeves showed knotted brown arms white to the wrists with flour His eyes were hard and steady, but from the corners of them innumerable little wrinkles fell away and crinkled at ti-car," he boo under a cottonwood beside the river showed signs of life One of them was scarcely more than a boy, perhaps twenty, a pleasant amiable youth with a weak chin and eyes that held no steel His companion was nearer forty than thirty, a hard-faced citizen who chewed tobacco and said little

"Where you going to fish to-night, Crumbs?" the cook asked of the man busy with the tackle

"Think I'll try up the river, Colter--start in above the Narrows and work down, ?"

"Me for the Meadows I'n on theot his three-pounder on a Jock Scott"

The ainst the side of the house and washed his hands in a tin pan resting on a stu felloith lean, muscular shoulders and the bloo to try a Jock Scott ets dark"

The boy who had corinned "Now I've shown you lads how to do it you'll all be catching whales"

"Once is a happenstance, twiceof the river," Colter pro the pan full of trout done to a crisp brown "Get the coffee, Mosby There's beer in the icebox, kid"

They ate in their shirtsleeves, camp fashion, on an oil cloth scarred with the ht to dinner the appetites of outdoors ust sun Their talk was strong and crisp, after the fashion of the , yet in that ats, even for the elemental talk of frontiersmen on a holiday