ed their camp, as he had
declared, by accident, for as yet there was no reason to suspect he had
any design in joining them.

He hardly knew what to do in the matter, for it would seem to be the
height of foolishness to warn Stackpole off, and refuse him the little
favor he asked, of spending the night by their fire, to enjoy their
company--people who roam the woods have peculiar ideas of hospitality,
and it is a serious infraction of the unwritten rules to deny a wanderer
the privilege of the camp for a night.

Surely they could stand his unwelcome presence for that short time; and
if they maintained their usual custom of standing watch-and-watch alike,
there would seem to be little chance of his doing them an evil turn.

Accordingly Cuthbert allowed his face to appear pleasant, as though he
might even be delighted to have this wandering timber spy with them for
a space, to enliven things a bit.

"Sit down and make yourself quite at home. You're right, it is getting
sharp and I wouldn't be at all surprised to see signs of frost, the
first of the season, in the morning. We're up here knocking about a
little, partly to hunt, but mostly because I've a penchant, that is, a
weakness for exploring out-of-the-way places. Stackpole, did you say
your name was?--well, mine's Cuthbert Reynolds, this is my friend, Eli
Perkins, and, you seem to know Owen, so I won't try to introduce him.
Have you had supper--if not there's something in the pot that wouldn't
taste bad if warmed up a bit?"

That was the way Cuthbert spoke, for he was naturally genial and
generous, ready to divide anything he had with one in distress; only in
this case he felt that it was along the line of casting pearls before
swine, for that ugly little gleam in the corner of Stackpole's shifty
eye warned him against trusting the fellow too far.

"That sounds good, and I'm goin' ter take ye up on the proposition,
young feller. I ain't had ary bite since noon, an' then 'twas a snack
only. Coffee--why, I've plumb forgot how she tastes, fact, it's been so
long since I had a cup. An' stew, my, that smells prime. Say, it was a
mighty lucky streak that made me come along the river here, headin' fur
the post. Thought I'd keep right along till I got thar, but 'twas tryin'
business, an' I'd jest determined ter bunk down till mornin' when I
ketched a glimpse o' this yer fire. Guess my old luck ain't petered out
yit."

He was evidently something of a talker, and liked