south slope of Squaw Mountain,
a ledge, and juniper bushes. The only game that could stay there was
swamp-swogons, witherlicks, and doodywhackits."

"What's them?" inquired the Cap'n, as though he hoped that he might
at least have these tenants on his worthless acres.

"Woods names for things that there ain't none of," vouchsafed Mr.
Crowther. "You owe me for twenty-two days' work, nine shillin's a
day, amountin' to--"

"Here! Take that and shut up!" barked the Cap'n, shoving bills at
him. Then he wagged a stubby finger under Mr. Crowther's nose. "Now
you mark well what I say to you! This thing stays right here among
us. If I hear of one yip comin' from you about the way I've been done,
I'll come round to your place and chop you into mince-meat and feed
you to that animile there!"

"Oh, I'm ashamed enough for you so that I won't ever open my mouth,"
cried Mr. Crowther. He went out through the gate, dragging his sulky
captive.

"And you needn't worry about me, neither," affirmed Mr. Bodge, who
had been standing unnoted in the shadow of the woodbine.

"Of course," he continued, "I ain't got so thick with either of you
gents as some others has in this place, never likin' to push myself
in where I ain't wanted. But I know you are both gents and willin'
to use them right that uses you right."

It was not exactly a veiled threat, but it was a hint that checked
certain remarks that the Cap'n was about to address to the
eavesdropper.

Mr. Bodge took advantage of the truce, and seated himself on the edge
of the porch, his peg-leg sticking straight out in forlorn nakedness.

"Investments is resky things in these days, Cap'n Sproul.
Gold-mines--why, you can't see through 'em, nor the ones that run
'em. And mark what has been done to you when you invested in the forest
primeval! I knowed I was comin' here at just the right time. I've
got a wonderful power for knowin' them things. So I came. I'm here.
You need a good investment to square yourself for a poor one. Here
it is!" He pulled off his dented derby and patted his bald head.

"Skatin'-rink?" inquired the Cap'n, sarcastically.

"Brains!" boomed Mr. Bodge, solemnly. "But in these days brains have
to be backed with capital. I've tried to fight it out, gents, on my
own hook. I said to myself right along, 'Brains has got to win in
the end, Bodge. Keep on!' But have they? No! Five hundred partunts,
gents, locked up in the brains of Eleazar Bodge! Strugglin' to get
ou