re were numerous things in
sight to cause a visitor to express surprise. Why, Obed even used
_aluminum cooking utensils_ equal to theirs, though not meant for
camping particularly; there were several rocking chairs, and one big
fireside chair that looked mighty inviting indeed, as it flanked the
broad hearth where Obed had a blaze going.

The kitchen lay at the back, and actually had a wood stove in it,
capable of baking bread or biscuits on occasion. Water, too, had been
piped to the cabin from some spring farther up the rise; though, in the
dead of winter a supply must of necessity be obtained from some other
source since this would be frozen up.

These things, and many others along the same line, caused Max to survey
Obed with a new source of wonder. Who was this remarkable boy, and how
on earth did he come to possess such a magical lodge up here in the
unpeopled wilderness? Why, a rich man could hardly have surrounded
himself with more in the way of comforts; and yet, according to his
language, and his account of himself, Obed was only an ordinary child of
the woods, one of the very numerous Grimes tribe, many of whom doubtless
gained their living by serving as guides in season.

Max, after staring around him in due wonder and admiration, turned again
to Obed. He could see that the other was observing them with that merry
twinkle in his eyes? and evidently expecting his guests to express
amazement at finding so wonderful a habitation where they had
anticipated so little.

"Its just splendid, that's the only word I can find to express my
feelings, Obed," Max hastened to say, at which the other laughed aloud.

"Course, now, you-all are awonderin' jest how a poor woods boy like me
'd ever git hold o' such a clever cabin," he went on to say; "but
shucks! that's an easy one to explain. Yuh see, it was built by a man
who had plenty o' money and poor health. He thought he could get well by
stayin' here, and so he fixed her up to beat the band. That big chair he
loved to sit in when the fire was agoin'. But jest as he got fixed so
nice his wife sent for him to come back home; and, say, he had to go.
So, havin' no use for his place here, he turned it over tuh me for a
song, I c'n show yuh the bill o' sale. Yuh see, I got to know Mr. Coombs
right well, for he was interested in my ijee o' startin' a fur farm.
Well, he's dead now. I often think when I'm sittin' here enjoyin' what
he built that somehow his spirit must be a