disgusted and left Dirty alone.”

Ajax took it all in and then gets inquisitive.

“Could I procure a specimen?”

“Nope. They only sleep between twelve and one o’clock, and nobody knows where they hole up. To catch one any other time you’ve got to take a sack in your hands, stand on the stump of a persimmon-tree and make a noise like a loofmad.”

“Oh, I see. Quite complicated. More of this later, as I am interested.”

“You deserve to be,” says I. “If it wasn’t for Middleton——”

“Ah, yes. I am deeply indebted to Middleton, the dear fellow. I shall mention him in my monograph.”

“Do it,” urges Magpie. “I’ll do the same—in my prayers.”

“I—I feel that I am going to make some wonderful discoveries out here.”

“Well,” says Magpie, “that remains to be seen, as the feller said when he dug into the Injun’s grave.”

Ajax gets a little skittish about sleeping outdoors, so he rolls up in a blanket on the floor. Me and Magpie are heavy sleepers, but he woke us up in the night. We sets up in bed and listens to him. He’s making a lot of noise like he was trying to move the cabin.

Magpie is just getting up to see what the trouble is when Ajax comes in, grunting and wheezing. Comes a big bump on the floor, a deep sigh from Ajax, and then everything is still again; so we goes to sleep.

In the morning Magpie kicks me in the ribs, and I sets up in bed. There is Ajax laying on the floor with his bare legs bent up over a section of pine log about thirty inches in diameter. Magpie snorts right out, and Ajax sets up.

He looks all around the cabin and then reaches for his pants.

“I thank you for the information, my dear Mr. Simpson,” says he. “I feel that the section of the genus Pinus was the means of saving my life. Several times after securing it I felt the deadly hipwiggler travel my entire length, only to fall off the log in surprize. It was a sensation I can not wish for again, but one I feel fortunate to have experienced. I thank you for your timely advice.”

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