growing faint-hearted.
"Let's go back."

"Naw, sir! Naw, sir!" protested Ab resolutely. "I'm on the borry!"

"How kin we find that thar leetle hammer in sech a dark place?" urged
Jim.

"Waal," explained Ab, in his high key, "dad air mightily welded ter his
cranky notions. An' he always leaves every tool in the same place
edzactly every night. Bound fur me!" he continued in shrill exultation
as he slapped his lean leg, "I know whar that thar leetle hammer air
sot ter roost!"

He jumped down from the window inside the shop, and cut a wiry caper.

"I'm a man o' bone and muscle!" he bragged. "Kin do ennything."

The other boys followed more quietly. But they had only groped a little
distance when Jim Gryce set up a sharp yelp of pain.

"Shet yer mouth--ye pop-eyed catamount!" Ab admonished him. "Dad will
hear an'--ah-h-h!" His own words ended in a shriek. "Oh, my!"
vociferated the "man of bone and muscle," who was certainly, too, a man
of extraordinary lung-power. "Oh, my! The ground is hot--hot ez iron!
They always tole me that Satan would ketch me--an' oh, my! now he hev
done it!"

He joined the "pop-eyed catamount" in a lively dance with their bare
feet on the hot iron bars which were scattered about the ground in every
direction. These were heated artistically, so that they might not really
scorch the flesh, but would touch the feelings, and perhaps the
conscience. As the third boy's scream rent the air, and told that he,
too, had encountered a torrid experience, Ab Ryder became suddenly aware
that there was some one besides themselves in the shop. He could see
nothing; he was only vaguely conscious of an unexpected presence, and he
fancied that it was in the corner by the barrel of water.

All at once a gruff voice broke forth. "I'm on the borry!" it remarked
with fierce facetiousness. "I want ter borry a boy--no! a man o' bone
an' muscle--fur 'bout a minit and a quarter!" A strong arm seized Ab by
his collar. He felt himself swept through the air, soused head foremost
into the barrel of water, then thrust into a corner, where he was
thankful to find there was no more hot iron.

"I want to borry another boy!" said the gruff voice. And the "pop-eyed
catamount" was duly ducked.

"'Twould pleasure me some ter borry another!" the voice declared with
grim humor. But Ben was the youngest and smallest, and only led into
mischief by the others. They never knew that the blacksmith relented
when his turn came, and