itty Bonnair took the cue.

"What did I do then?" demanded Lightfoot, with a reminiscent smile.
"Well, it was a ground-hog case with me--if I moved I'd freeze to
death and if I knocked his paw out'n his mouth again he'd mash my face
in with it--so I jest snuggled down against him, tucked my head under
his chin, and went to sleep, holdin' that paw in his mouth with both
hands."

"Oh, Mr. Lightfoot," exclaimed Kitty, "how could you? Why, that's the
most remarkable experience I ever heard of! Lucy, I'm going to put
that story in my book when I get home, and--but what _are_ you
laughing at, Mr. Creede?"

"Who? Me?" inquired Jeff, who had been rocking about as if helpless
with laughter. "W'y, _I_ ain't laughin'!"

"Yes, you are too!" accused Miss Kitty. "And I want you to tell me
what it is. Don't you think Mr. Lightfoot's story is true?"

"True?" echoed Creede, soberly. "W'y, sure it's true. I ain't never
been up in those parts; but if Bill says so, that settles it. I never
knew a feller from Coloraydo yet that could tell a lie. No, I was jest
laughin' to think of that old bear suckin' his paw that way."

He added this last with such an air of subterfuge and evasion that
Kitty was not deceived for a moment.

"No, you're _not_, Mr. Creede," she cried, "you're just making fun of
me--so there!"

She stamped her foot and pouted prettily, and the big cowboy's face
took on a look of great concern.

"Oh, no, ma'am," he protested, "but since it's gone so far I reckon
I'll have to come through now in order to square myself. Of course I
never had no real adventures, you know,--nothin' that you would care
to write down or put in a book, like Bill's,--but jest hearin' him
tell that story of gittin' snowed in reminded me of a little
experience I had up north here in Coconino County. You know Arizona
ain't all sand and cactus--not by no means. Them San Francisco
Mountains up above Flag are sure snow-crested and covered with tall
timber and it gits so cold up there in the winter-time that it breaks
rocks. No, that's straight! Them prospectors up there when they run
short of powder jest drill a line of holes in a rock and when one of
them awful cold snaps comes on they run out and fill the holes up with
hot water out of the tea-kittle. Well, sir, when that water freezes,
which it does in about a minute, it jest naturally busts them rocks
wide open--but that ain't what I started to tell you about."

He paused and contemplated h