evolently eyeing the
stray lamb before him.

"Heap well," returned Wang Kum calmly, as he kept his eyes fixed on the
ground, to avoid Mrs. Pennypoker's warning glance.

"I was afraid you were ill," observed the doctor, with an approving
smile for his own crafty manner of approaching the subject.

"Uh?" inquired Wang Kum.

"I thought perhaps you might be sick," repeated the doctor. "I hadn't
seen you at church lately."

Wang shook his head contemptuously.

"Wang no get sick," he remarked.

"Then why haven't you been to church?" asked the doctor.

But Wang Kum only replied with a scarcely perceptible shrug.

"Wang, didn't you hear Dr. Hornblower speak to you?" asked Mrs.
Pennypoker sharply.

Wang still stood gazing on the ground and nodding his head in a slow,
thoughtful way which communicated a rhythmic undulation to his pigtail.
At Mrs. Pennypoker's question, he glanced up.

"Wang no likee your church," he answered coolly. "Pisplykal church heap
lot better; smell good, sound good." He paused, then added, with a
cunning twinkle in his little dark eyes, "Make heap washee for
washee-shop." And, turning on his heel, he marched off towards the
kitchen, with the air of a man who had solved vast economic problems.

CHAPTER IX.

CAMPING ON THE BEAVERHEAD.

The August sun was shining down from a cloudless sky. He had risen
betimes that morning; but he was not the first one up in Blue Creek, for
the dim light of the dawn had found Ned and Grant Everett dressed and
flying about the house, while, farther up the street, Marjorie was
peering out through the window blinds, to assure herself that it was to
be a pleasant day. By seven o'clock the Burnams, too, were stirring; and
soon afterwards Allie and the boys appeared in the dining-room at the
Everetts', to exchange noisy congratulations over the fine weather.

The day had at length come when they were to start upon their
long-delayed camping trip. For the past week, the young people had been
in a state of ferment, while their elders were in much the same
condition, even to Mrs. Pennypoker, whose excitement was largely mixed
with dread at the thought of the Bohemian life before her. The
engineering camp, which they were to join, was now pitched beside the
Beaverhead River; and Mr. Burnam, who had been out with his party much
of the time since Charlie's accident, had come back to Blue Creek two
days before, announcing that all was in readiness for their rec