n must have been the one that followed Ham up Pike's Peak. How
about it, Ham?" said Mr. Allen teasingly. Ham did not reply. The smile
disappeared from his face, and he dropped to the back of the line. "Ham,
won't you tell us that story some time?" urged Mr. Allen. "I've never
heard the real story, and I'd like to know about it."

"I've forgotten every detail, Mr. Allen," said Ham, "and I've forgotten
them for good. It wasn't nearly as big a joke as every one supposed,
though, I'll tell you that. I'll never come any nearer to handing in my
heavenly passport and not do it than I did that time. Let's forget it. It
brings back unpleasant thoughts."

At noon they camped in the shadow of a great overhanging rock and rested.
Fat found, upon opening his pack, that he had left what remained of his
loaf of bread at the last camping place, along with two cans of milk and
a box of raisins.

"The oracle is coming true," dryly remarked Ham. "It always does, if it's
interpreted properly. Fat, the swine of carelessness have consumed your
living."

By three o'clock the party reached Cather Springs, which was nothing but
the home of an old mountaineer--a quaint little log cabin, a barn, and a
corral, in which stood two very patient, tired-looking donkeys and a
large, raw-boned mountain horse. A little to one side of the cabin stood
the spring house--a low, rustic affair, built of young trees. A slab-door
stood slightly ajar, and through the opening there came the voice of a
woman, softly singing to herself. A thin column of gray smoke was curling
gently from the rough stone chimney. At one side of the house, in the
shade of a great pine tree, was nestled a little flower garden that gave
every sign of having had careful attention each day. On the back stoop
was stretched out, at full length, a husky Collie dog. He was evidently
asleep, for he did not stir as the boys came down the trail toward the
picturesque little cabin.

"Great Caesar's ghost!" exclaimed Ham. "Take a peep at a few of those
jay-birds. I never saw so many in my life. I'll bet the lady feeds them.
Watch me knock that saucy fellow off that dead limb."

He raised his gun and shot. There was an awful scolding, jabbering, and
flapping of wings, but no deaths--fortunately for Ham. The dog came to
life in less than a second, and expressed himself freely on the
imprudence of such an interruption to his mid-day nap. Likewise, the
spring-house door suddenly opened and out po