milliner's shop was too much
of a revolutionary proceeding to pass unnoticed. The women dropped their
work with a little scream, while the man started from his chair with
most violent intent upon poor Pete.

"What be ye after here, Injun?" he growled. "Hump yerself outer
here--git a-goin'!"

But Pete pulled out his money, at the sight of which the standing army
of the milliner's store paused. Money has smoothed over many an outrage.
It might perhaps excuse even such an action on the part of an "Injun."

"I want flowers," Pete said, pointing to the basket. "Give me flowers--I
pay."

"Oh, ye wanter buy sum of them artyficial flowers, do ye? This is a
pooty time o' night ter come flower huntin,' ain't it? Jest pick out yer
flowers, an' then climb out!"--and he held the basket out at arm's
length for Pete to select.

Pete took a great red rose, and a white flower. There was not very much
of a stock to select from, but Pete, with "Injun" instinct, selected the
largest and gaudiest.

"Them is wurth about ten shillins," figured up the merchant, taking the
money from Pete's hand.

Pete carefully placed the flowers in the pocket of his ragged coat, and
started for the door. The milliner's man, rendered affable by the most
surprising bargain he had just made, naturally wished to retain the
patronage of such a model customer.

"Want anything in our line, Injun, jest call round an' we'll please ye.
Only come a little afore bed-time when ye come again." But Pete slunk
out at the door and did not hear him.

Pete's money was nearly gone, but he had a scheme in his head. He slunk
in at the back door of the bar-room, and obtained his jug, and what
whiskey he could buy with the rest of his money. Then up the street he
ran again, out of town, stopping only once at the pump to fill the jug
to the top with water. Resolutely fastening in the stopper, and not even
raising the jug to his mouth, he started for camp at his long, swinging
trot, with the jug in his hand. Mile after mile was passed over, yet
Pete did not stop till Jeff Hunt's cabin came in sight. Hiding his jug
behind a log, he crept up to the window and looked in.

The light was burning on the table, while Mrs. Hunt sat nodding over her
work. She had been mending the clothes so that Pete could take them back
with him. Tired out, she had fallen asleep. The box of frozen plants
still stood by the table. Pete grinned as he saw them, thinking of the
great flowers in his