the criticism, and admitted with a conciliatory
whine in his voice that was rather sickening:

"Perhaps I did enlarge a little, Mr. Penrose. Possibly I was
over-anxious to be interesting. I apologize sincerely if I have misled
and disappointed you. I hope, however, that you will yet have the
opportunity of seeing at least one before we leave here."

"No such luck," Mr. Penrose growled at him. "I haven't any idea that
I'll see even the tracks. It's a good idea to cut in two everything
you're told in this country and then divide it."

Mr. Penrose was so hard on Hicks that Mr. Appel interposed quickly:

"Do they ever come around at night, Cookie?"

"So I have been informed," Mr. Hicks replied, conservatively.

Pinkey was about to say that bears travelled more by night than in
daytime, when Mr. Appel declared that he intended to sleep in the
sleeping bag he had brought with him but which Mrs. Appel had not
permitted him to use because she felt nervous alone, in her teepee.

Mrs. Appel protested against Mr. Appel thus recklessly exposing himself
to danger but Mr. Appel was mulish in the matter.

"If, by chance, one _should_ come into camp I would have a good look at
him. I may never have another such opportunity."

"If you want to take your life in your hands, well and good."

So, after supper, Mr. Appel unrolled his sleeping bag and spread it on a
level spot not far from the supply wagon. Then he kissed Mrs. Appel, who
turned her cheek to him, and buttoned himself into the bag.

The talk of bears had made Aunt Lizzie Philbrick so nervous that as an
extra precaution she pinned the flap of her tent down securely with a
row of safety-pins and Mr. Stott not only slept in more of his clothes
than usual but put a pair of brass knuckles under his pillow.

These brass knuckles had been presented to Mr. Stott by a grateful
client for whom he had obtained damages from a street railway company
for injuries received through being ejected from a saloon six months
prior to the date upon which he had fallen off the car step.

Brass knuckles and a convenient length of lead-pipe were favourite
weapons with the clientele which gave to the waiting room of Mr. Stott's
law office an odour reminiscent of a Wayfarers' Lodging House.

The night was a dark one, so dark in fact that old Mr. Penrose felt some
little hesitation when it came bed-time over going off to sleep by
himself in the brush where, owing to his unfortunate habit of