ing to the
cupboard door and holding the well-smeared pot up above his head.

The children's cries ceased, and for a second they stood staring up at
him. Then, like a pair of rabbits, they turned and ran for the
bedroom, vanishing behind the curtain amidst shrieking excitement.
Sunny followed them with the molasses and a handful of crackers.

They were both on the bed when he passed into the room, huddling down
under a couple of cotton blankets. The man glanced round him. On the
other side of the room was the big bed where their father and mother
slept. Both beds were unmade, and the room was littered with feminine
garments in a manner that suggested the mother's hasty flight.
Hardened as he was, the sight and all it suggested depressed him. But
he was not allowed much time for reflection. Two childish voices
shrieked at him at once.

"Me first!" they cried in one breath.

And Sunny ladled them out molasses and crackers to their hearts'
content. When they had eaten all he thought good for them Vada
scrambled to her knees.

"Prayers," she said, and clasped her hands before her face.

Jamie wobbled up to her side and imitated her. And Sunny stood by
listening wonderingly to something that brought back a world of
recollection to him. It brought him more. It laid before him a mental
picture of his present manhood which somehow nauseated him. But he
stood his ground till the final "Amens," then he hustled the twins
almost roughly into the blankets, and, having extracted a promise from
them not to leave the bed again until he returned, hurried out of the
room.

He stood for a moment in the living-room. He was in a doubt that
almost confused him. Mechanically he looked at the stove. The fire was
quite safe. The window was secure. Then he moved to the door. There
was a lock to it and a key. He passed out, and, locking the door
behind him, removed the key.

"Gee!" he exclaimed, drinking in a breath of the evening air, "five
minutes more o' that an' I'd 'a' bin singin' funeral hymns over my
past life. Gee!"

* * * * *

Ten minutes later he was in Wild Bill's hut down at the camp, and had
finished his account of his adventures.

"Say," he finished up peevishly, "ther's things a feller can do, an'
things he sure can't. I tell you right here I ain't learned how to
cluck to my chicks, an' I ain't never scratched a worm in my life. I
'low I'm too old to git busy that ways now. I