"It's a wonder,
Andy. Big enough for--for a whole family!"
"Half a dozen Indians happened along, an' I hired 'em," explained
Duggan. "Thought I might as well make it big enough, Johnny, seein' I
had plenty of help. Sometimes I snore pretty loud, an'--"
"There's smoke coming out of it," cried Keith.
"Kept one of the Indians," chuckled Duggan. "Fine cook, an' a
sassy-lookin' little squaw she is, Johnny. Her husband died last
winter, an' she jumped at the chance to stay, for her board an' five
bucks a month. How's your Uncle Andy for a schemer, eh, Johnny?"
A dozen rods from the cabin was a creek. Duggan halted here to water
his horse and nodded for Keith to go on.
"Take a look, Johnny; go ahead an' take a look! I'm sort of sot up over
that cabin."
Keith handed his reins to Duggan and obeyed. The cabin door was open,
and he entered. One look assured him that Duggan had good reason to be
"sot up." The first big room reminded him of the Shack. Beyond that was
another room in which he heard someone moving and the crackle of a fire
in a stove. Outside Duggan was whistling. He broke off whistling to
sing, and as Keith listened to the river-man's bellowing voice chanting
the words of the song he had sung at McCoffin's Bend for twenty years,
he grinned.
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