At the flap-front he asked. "Hello, <
John; still up?”
‘‘Come in, h'y. I'm down but 1 ain’t j
to sleep.” j
Curt stepped in. Old John was :
stretched out cm his eider poke,
reading a fur-company almanac by
light of a candle. !
“Won’t keep you awake, will 1,
John?”
“Not a speck. 1 do most of my I
sloepin’ in the winter time, like an
ole b ar. ’Sides, I’m goin’ out to run i
my fish net dreckly.”
Curt sat down ou a bos. "John, you !
know the Klosohees better than, any- :
body else; what do you really think
about this trip the Nichols are plan
ning up the Lilluar?”
“Son, I don’t think about that prop
persition; I know. Sonya an' Ralph
air goin' to git inter a peck of hot
water. If they ’tempt to go above
the pass, they’re like to never git '
back to Roosian Lake a-tall.” He !
groped in a pack and pulled out a
aurious bow. “Know what this Js,
b’y?” j
Curt examined the strange wea
pon. It was made of two matched j
aorns, with the butt ends fitted to
gether. wrapped with sinew and ce
aiented so cleverly that they looked
ike one piece.
