yer blank fossiliferous trap, instead o' being superposed on
top, is superposed on the bottom. And that means"--

"What?" we all asked eagerly.

"Why--blank it all--that this yer convulsion of nature, this
prehistoric volcanic earthquake, instead of acting laterally and
chuckin' the stream to one side, has been revolutionary and turned the
old river-bed bottom-side up, and yer d--d cement hez got half the
globe atop of it! Ye might strike it from China, but nowhere else."

We continued to look at one another, the older members with darkening
faces, the younger with a strong inclination to laugh. Captain Jim, who
had been concerned only in his friend's emotion, and who was hanging
with undisguised satisfaction on these final convincing proofs of his
superior geological knowledge, murmured approvingly and confidingly,
"He's right, boys! Thar ain't another man livin' ez could give you the
law and gospil like that! Ye can tie to what he says. That's Lacy all
over."

Two weeks passed. We had gathered, damp and disconsolate, in the only
available shelter of the camp. For the long summer had ended
unexpectedly to us; we had one day found ourselves caught like the
improvident insect of the child's fable with gauzy and unseasonable
wings wet and bedraggled in the first rains, homeless and hopeless. The
scientific Lacy, who lately spent most of his time as a bar-room oracle
in the settlement, was away, and from our dripping canvas we could see
Captain Jim returning from a visit to him, slowly plodding along the
trail towards us.

"It's no use, boys," said Rowley, summarizing the result of our
conference, "we must speak out to him, and if nobody else cares to do
it I will. I don't know why we should be more mealy-mouthed than they
are at the settlement. They don't hesitate to call Bassett a
dead-beat, whatever Captain Jim says to the contrary."

The unfortunate Captain Jim had halted irresolutely before the gloomy
faces in the shelter. Whether he felt instinctively some forewarning
of what was coming I cannot say. There was a certain dog-like
consciousness in his eye and a half-backward glance over his shoulder
as if he were not quite certain that Lacy was not following. The rain
had somewhat subdued his characteristic fluffiness, and he cowered with
a kind of sleek storm-beaten despondency over the smoking fire of green
wood before our tent.

Nevertheless, Rowley opened upon him with a directness and decision