e," said Uncle Jim quickly, "is whar the
thing's gittin' in its work. Sorter sickenin' the malaria--and kinder
water-proofin' the insides all to onct and at the same lick! Don't yer
see? Put another in yer vest pocket; you'll be cryin' for 'em like a
child afore ye get home. Thar! Well, how's things agoin' on your
claim, Dick? Boomin', eh?"

The guest raised his head and turned it sufficiently to fling his
answer back over his shoulder at his hosts. "I don't know what _you'd_
call 'boomin','" he said gloomily; "I suppose you two men sitting here
comfortably by the fire, without caring whether school keeps or not,
would call two feet of backwater over one's claim 'boomin';' I reckon
_you'd_ consider a hundred and fifty feet of sluicing carried away, and
drifting to thunder down the South Fork, something in the way of
advertising to your old camp! I suppose _you'd_ think it was an
inducement to investors! I shouldn't wonder," he added still more
gloomily, as a sudden dash of rain down the wide-throated chimney
dropped in his tin cup--"and it would be just like you two chaps,
sittin' there gormandizing over your quinine--if yer said this rain
that's lasted three weeks was something to be proud of!"

It was the cheerful and the satisfying custom of the rest of the camp,
for no reason whatever, to hold Uncle Jim and Uncle Billy responsible
for its present location, its vicissitudes, the weather, or any
convulsion of nature; and it was equally the partners' habit, for no
reason whatever, to accept these animadversions and apologize.

"It's a rain that's soft and mellowin'," said Uncle Billy gently, "and
supplin' to the sinews and muscles. Did ye ever notice,
Jim"--ostentatiously to his partner--"did ye ever notice that you get
inter a kind o' sweaty lather workin' in it? Sorter openin' to the
pores!"

"Fetches 'em every time," said Uncle Billy. "Better nor fancy soap."

Their guest laughed bitterly. "Well, I'm going to leave it to you. I
reckon to cut the whole concern to-morrow, and 'lite' out for something
new. It can't be worse than this."

The two partners looked grieved, albeit they were accustomed to these
outbursts. Everybody who thought of going away from Cedar Camp used it
first as a threat to these patient men, after the fashion of runaway
nephews, or made an exemplary scene of their going.

"Better think twice afore ye go," said Uncle Billy.

"I've seen worse weather afore ye came," said Un