comfortably once more by the fire in the
office. They settled themselves back comfortably.

"Arms ache?" inquired Harvey of his comrade.

"No," replied Henry Burns, "but I don't mind saying I'm tired. I
wouldn't stir out of this place again to-night for sixteen billion
dol--"

The door opened, and a bulky, red-faced man entered, stamping, shaking
the rain from his clothing like a big Newfoundland dog, and railing
ill-naturedly at the weather.

"It's a vile night, gran'," he exclaimed; then espying his two
newly-arrived guests, he assumed a more cordial tone.

"Good evening. Good evening, young gentlemen," he said. "Glad you got in
out of the storm--hello! what's this? Well, if it don't beat me!"

At the sound of the man's voice, Henry Burns and Jack Harvey had sprung
up in amazement. They stood beside their chairs, eying the proprietor of
the Half Way House, curiously. He, in turn, glared at them in
astonishment, fully equal to theirs, while his red face went from its
normal fiery hue to deep purple, and his hands clenched.

[Illustration: "AT THE SOUND OF THE MAN'S VOICE, HENRY BURNS AND JACK
HARVEY HAD SPRUNG UP IN AMAZEMENT."]

"Colonel Witham!" they exclaimed, in the same breath.

"What are you two doing here?" he cried.

"What new monkey-shine of yours is this? Don't you know I won't have any
Henry Burnses and Jack Harveys, nor any of the rest of you, around my
hotel? Didn't yer get satisfaction enough out of bringing bad luck to me
in one place, and now you come bringing it here? Get out, is what I say
to you, and get out quick!"

"You keep away, gran'," he cried to the woman, who had stepped forward.
"Don't you go interfering. It's my hotel; and I wouldn't care if 'twas
raining a bucket a drop and coming forty times as hard. I'd put 'em out
er doors, neck and crop. Get out, I say, and don't ever step a foot
around here again."

Henry Burns and Jack Harvey stood for a moment, gazing in perplexity at
each other.

"Shall we go, or stick it out?" asked Harvey, in a low voice.

"Why, it's a public house, and I don't believe he has a right to throw
us out this way," said Henry Burns. "But it means a fight, sure, if we
try to stay. I guess we better quit. It's his own place, and he's a
rough man when he's angered."

Ruefully pulling on their sweaters--at least dry once more--and taking
their paddles, which they had brought with them, from behind the door,
they went out into the night, into the driving