is a nice thing, whatever it is," said
Mother. "It sounds real wicked. I never heard of thimble-rigging. How do
you rig a thimble?"

"I don't know, but I think we better go back."

They stopped. The large man turned on them and growled, "Hustle up."

Obediently the Innocents trailed after his dark, shaggy back that, in
his tattered overcoat, seemed as formidable as it was big. The glow
grew more intense ahead of them. They came into a clearing where, round
a fire beside a rude shanty, sat several men, one of whom was still
droning "Hello, 'Frisco!"

"Visitors!" shouted the guide.

The group sprang up, startled, threatening--shabby, evil-looking men.

Father stood palsied as grim, unshaven faces lowered at him, as a
sinister man with a hooked nose stalked forward, his fist doubled.

But Mother left his side, darted past the hook-nosed man, and snapped:
"That's no way to peel potatoes, young man. You're losing all the best
part, next to the skin. Here, give me that. I'll show you. Waste and
carelessness--"

While Father and the group of circled hoboes stared, Mother firmly took
a huge jack-knife away from a slight, red-headed man who was peeling
potatoes and chucking them into a pot of stew that was boiling on the
fire.

"Well--I'll--be--darned!" said every one, almost in chorus.

"Who are you?" the hook-nosed man demanded of Father. But his voice
sounded puzzled and he gazed incredulously at Mother as she cozily
peeled potatoes, her delicate cheeks and placid eye revealed in the
firelight. She was already as sturdily industrious and matter-of-fact
as though she were back in the tea-room.

"I'm Appleby, the pedestrian," said Father. "Wife and I went-- Say,
ain't she the nicest-looking woman in that firelight! Great woman, let
me tell you. We went broke in New York and we're tramping to 'Frisco.
Can you take us in for the night? I guess we're all fellow-hoboes."

"Sure will," said the hook-nosed man. "Pleased to have you come,
fellow-bum. My name's Crook McKusick. I'm kind of camp boss. The boys
call me 'Crook' because I'm so honest. You can see that yourself."

"Oh yes," said Father, quite innocently.

"The lad that the madam dispossessed is Reddy, and this fish-faced duck
here is the K. C. Kid. But I guess the most important guy in the gang is
Mr. Mulligan, the stew. If your missus wants to elect herself cook
to-night, and make the mulligan taste human, she can be the boss."

"Bring me the salt and don'