't
shoot at all until after the elk were gone, and the way you held your
gun it is a wonder it didn't knock your head off, instead of just
smashing your jaw."

The men worked as fast as they could at the elk, and we helped as much
as we could, but it was dark before we reached camp. Supper was ready,
but I went to bed at once. They all thought it was because I was so
disappointed, but it was because I was so stiff and sore I could
hardly move, and so tired I couldn't sleep. Next morning my jaw and
neck were so swollen that I hated any one to see me, and my head ached
for two days. It has been snowing for a long time, but Clyde says he
will take me hunting when it stops. I don't want to go but reckon I
will have to, because I don't want to come so far and buy a license to
kill an elk and go back empty-handed, and partly to get a rest from
Mr. Murry's everlasting accordion.

Mr. Murry is an old-time acquaintance of Mrs. O'Shaughnessy's. He has
a ranch down on the river somewhere. Mrs. O'Shaughnessy has not seen
him for years,--didn't know he lived up here. He had seen the
game-warden from whom she had procured her license, and so hunted up
our camp. He is an odd-looking individual, with sad eyes and a
drooping mouth which gives his face a most hopeless, reproachful
expression. His nose, however, seems to upset the original plan, for
it is long and thin and bent slightly to one side. His neck is long
and his Adam's apple seems uncertain as to where it belongs. At supper
Jerrine watched it as if fascinated until I sent her from the table
and went out to speak to her about gazing.

"Why, mamma," she said, "I had to look; he has swallowed something
that won't go either up or down, and I'm 'fraid he'll choke."

Although I can't brag about Mr. Murry's appearance, I can about his
taste, for he admires Mrs. O'Shaughnessy. It seems that in years gone
by he has made attempts to marry her.

As he got up from supper the first night he was with us, he said,
"Mary Ellen, I have a real treat and surprise for you. Just wait a few
minutes, an' I'll bet you'll be happy."

We took our accustomed places around the fire, while Mr. Murry hobbled
his cayuse and took an odd-looking bundle from his saddle. He seated
himself and took from the bundle--an accordion! He set it upon his
knee and began pulling and pushing on it. He did what Mr. Struble said
was doling a doleful tune. Every one took it good-naturedly, but he
kept doling the dole