d yer shootin' be both right, and ye will
find the door of my cabin open at yer comin', whether ye come full
handed or empty, sober or drunk, Wild Bill."

"I haven't touched a drop for twelve months," responded the other.
"The pledge I gave you above the Christmas box in your cabin here last
Christmas eve I have kept, and shall keep to the end, John Norton."

"I expected it of ye, yis, I sartinly expected it of ye, Bill, for ye
came of good stock. Yer granther fit in the Revolution, and a man's
word gits its value a good deal from his breedin', as I conceit,"
replied the Trapper. "But what have ye in the box,--bird, beast, or
fish, Bill?"

"The trail runs this way," answered Bill. "I chopped a whole winter
four year ago for a man who never paid me a cent for my work at the
end of it. Last week I concluded to go and collect the bill myself,
but not a thing could I get out of the knave but what's in the box. So
I told him I'd take them and call the account settled, for I had read
the writing on the bark you had nailed up on Indian Carry, and I said:
'They will help out at the dinner.'" And Bill proceeded to start one
of the boards with his hatchet.

The Trapper, whose curiosity was now thoroughly excited, applied his
eye to the opening, and as he did so there suddenly issued from the
box the most unearthly noises, accompanied by such scratchings and
clawings as could only have proceeded from animals of their nature
under such extraordinary treatment as they had experienced.

"Heavens and 'arth!" exclaimed the Trapper, "ye have pigs in that box,
Bill!"

"That's what I put in it," replied Bill, as he gave it another whack,
"and that's what will come out of it if I can start the clinchings of
these nails." And he bent himself with energy to his work.

"Hold up! Hold up, Bill!" cried the Trapper. "This isn't a bit of
business ye can do in a hurry ef ye expect to git any profit out of
the transaction. I can see only one of the pigs, but the one I can see
is not over-burdened with fat, and it's agin reason to expect that he
will be long in gittin' out when he starts, or wait for ye to scratch
him when he breaks cover."

"Don't you be afraid of them pigs getting away from me, old man,"
rejoined Bill, as he pried away at the nails. "I don't expect that the
one that starts will be as slow as a funeral when he makes his first
jump, but he won't be the only pig I've caught by the leg when he was
two feet above the earth."