ant or nothing."

One of the sheriff's companions muttered: "Come on, Bill. I think she's
the wife of that nosey new preacher over to Cordova."

"All right," said the sheriff. Before he turned away he threatened, "Now
if I hear of anything more from you boys, I'll get that warrant, all
righty, and you'll land in the calaboose, where you belong."

But the hoboes about the fire cheered derisively, and as the sheriff
disappeared in the woods they surrounded Mother in a circle of grins and
shining eyes, and the K. C. Kid was the first to declare: "Good for you,
aunty. You're elected camp boss, and you can make me perm'nent cookee,
if you want to."

"Well, then," said Mother, calmly, "let's get that nasty shack cleaned
up right away. I do declare I'm beginning to get sleepy."

Nothing in his life was more to Father's credit than the fact that he
did not envy Mother the credit of having become monarch of the camp and
protector of the poor. "I'm with you, Mother," he said. "What you want
me to do? Let's hustle. Blizzard coming--with a warrant."

* * * * *

Round a camp-fire in the woods a group of men were playing cards,
wire-bearded men in rough coats and greasy flannel shirts; but the most
violent thing they said was "Doggone it," and sometimes they stopped to
listen to the strains of "Dandy Dick and the Candlestick," which a
white-haired cheerful old gentleman rendered on the mouth-organ.

Father was perched on a powder-can. His feet were turned inward with
comfort and soul-satisfaction, and now and then he jerked his head
sideways, with an air of virile satisfaction. The collar of his
blue-flannel shirt poked up beside his chin as cockily as the ear of a
setter pup.... Father didn't know it, but he was making believe be King
of the Bandits.

Across the fire, in an aged and uncertain rocking-chair, placid as
though she were sitting beside a gas-log instead of a camp-fire
over-gloomed with winter woods, was Mother, darning a sock and lecturing
the homicidal-looking Crook McKusick on cursing and swearing and
carryings-on. Crook stared down at her adoringly, and just when she
seemed to have penetrated his tough hide with her moral injunctions he
chuckled: "By golly! I believe I'll marry and settle down--just as soon
as I can find a moll that'll turn into a cute old lady like you, aunty."

"Now, Mr. McKusick," she said, severely, "you want to reform for the
sake of reforming, not just t