he could hold the hogshead down so that
they couldn't overturn it.

"They came sniffing around and trying to stick their paws under, and
suddenly that gave him an idea."

Here Slim looked slyly out of the corner of his eye at his companions.
They were listening breathlessly, hanging on every word.

"He took the hatchet," Slim resumed, "and broke open the cask of nails.
The next time a paw came under he drove a nail through it, fastening it
to the ice. He did this to the next and the next, until there was a
circle of paws under the hogshead. Then he chopped off the paws and the
wolves limped away howling.

"Then he slid the hogshead along to a smooth place in the ice, and did
the same thing all over again. There seemed to be no end of wolves, and
he kept moving on from place to place till all his nails were used up.

"At last, he didn't hear any more noise, and, lifting up the edge of the
hogshead, he saw that it was morning, and all the wolves were gone. He
got out, and made his way on foot to the cabin, where he found that the
horses had got home safe, and his friend was just setting out to look
for him. They went back together and counted the paws, and there were
just----"

He paused a moment.

"How many?" asked Billy Burton.

"Seven thousand nine hundred and ninety-six," said Slim impressively.
Then, as the boys gasped, "seven thousand nine hundred and ninety-six,"
he repeated firmly.

They rose to smite him.

"Of all the yarn spinners this side of kingdom come!" burst out Ned
Wayland.

"There you go," protested Slim plaintively, "you're always pickin' on
me.

"It does seem quite a lot," he admitted judicially, "but if it wasn't
true, why should they give those exact figures, seven thousand nine
hundred and ninety-six? It shows they were conscientious and careful.
Now, a liar might have said eight thousand and let it go at that. He
might have----"

Just then there came a knock at the door.

CHAPTER XX

A RATTLING GAME

The lights went out in a second.

"Great Scott!" whispered Melvin. "It's Beansey. I didn't think it was
anywhere near time for him to be around again."

Again came the knock, a little more impatient and imperative this time.

"Open the door," came a voice that they had no difficulty in recognizing
as that of "Beansey" Walton.

The boys huddled together, scarcely venturing to breathe.

"Who is there?" drawled out Melvin, in a voice that he tried to make as
sleepy a