ng, hair-raising, unnatural as
they were, Mr. Budlong recognized them.

"My wife! Help! Murder! Hicks, where is she? Find a weapon and come with
us!"

"I gotta get supper," Hicks replied, heartlessly.

Mr. Appel, Mr. Stott, and old Mr. Penrose dashed into their tents and
dashed out carrying firearms that had been sealed by the Park officials,
as is customary, while Mr. Budlong in his frenzy snatched a pair of
scissors from Miss Eyester and headed the posse which expected to pursue
the murderer. He was not a murderer yet, however, for Mrs. Budlong's
screams had not diminished in volume, although it was feared that worse
than death might already have befallen her. Her shrieks guided them like
a lighthouse siren, so they lost no time in taking wrong directions but,
at that, it was a considerable distance and Mr. Budlong, in spite of the
agonized thoughts which goaded him forward, was so handicapped by his
asthma that he gradually fell to the rear of the rescue party.

Mr. Stott was then in the lead, with Mr. Appel a close second, until the
latter, who was wearing bedroom slippers, stumped his toes against a
rock with such force that he believed them broken. He dropped down
immediately with the pain of it and sat weaving to and fro, clasping his
foot to his breast while the others passed him.

Mr. Stott called that help was arriving as he crashed through the brush
in the vicinity of the beaver dam. To his astonishment Mrs. Budlong
shrieked:

"Don't come!" and went on screaming. When he reached the pond he stopped
short and stood there, and old Mr. Penrose joined him an instant later.

Mr. Appel, alternately limping and hopping yet covering ground with
surprising rapidity, reached the others ahead of Mr. Budlong, who,
staggering with exhaustion, huge drops on his pallid face, and wheezing
like an old accordeon, all but fainted when he saw the wife of his
bosom.

Mrs. Budlong, looking like a corn-fed Aphrodite, stood in the middle of
the pool, with her fat white back, wet and glistening, flecked with
brown particles that resembled decayed vegetation.

"What's the matter, Honey Dumplin'?" cried Mr. Budlong, shocked and
bewildered.

For answer, Mrs. Budlong screamed the harder.

"I know!" piped up Mr. Appel. "She's covered with
leeches--blood-suckers--and can't get 'em off. I got 'em once swimmin'
in stagnant water."

When he spoke he called attention to the fact of his presence and that
of Mr. Stott and old Mr.