etizing, and
the manner of serving it much more to Riles' liking than that to
which he had been subjected for some days. The meat was fresh and
tasty; and the bread and butter were all that could be desired, and
the strong, hot tea, without milk but thick with sugar, completed a
meal that was in every way satisfactory. Riles' eyes, when not on his
plate, were busy taking in the surroundings. The log walls were hung
with mementoes, some of earlier days and some of other lands, and
throughout the big room was a strange mixture of elegance and
plainness. At one end were rows of shelves, with more books than
Riles had ever seen, and above stood a small piece of statuary worth
the price of many bushels of wheat.

Gardiner noted the interest of his guest, and smiled quietly to
himself. He supposed that Riles had the usual notions about the Far
West--a notion that here he was on the outer-most rim of the finer
civilization of even the Middle West. But he knew also that this
plain log building contained furnishings and decorations altogether
beyond anything that Riles had ever seen or heard of--things, indeed,
so far removed from the life of the hard-working farmer that they
might have come from another world than his own. When the meal was
finished Gardiner swept the soiled dishes into a big galvanized iron
tub, there to await attentions from Jim at a convenient season, and
invited Riles to look about the house.

They entered another room, immediately to the north of the large
apartment which served all general housekeeping purposes. The floor
was of plain boards, smooth with the riding-boots of many years, and
in the centre lay the skin of a great bear. An old-fashioned carved
table, of some size, and three leather chairs, were the principal
furniture. Two swords hung diagonally across the far wall, and above
them was an old flag, discoloured with sun and rain. Ancient firearms
decorated the walls, and odd pieces of strange clothing hung about in
profusion.

"This is His Nibs' drawing-room," said Gardiner. "This junk you see
about you has been gathered from the corners of the earth during the
last few centuries. In there"--indicating another room through a door
to the left--"is his bedroom--a regular museum of stuff running to no
end of money, if you went to buy it. He has a couple of pictures
worth more than a quarter-section of land, and that mat you see
through the door--a prayer-rug he calls it, though he don't use it