mountain they were met by the warden, carrying two baskets of provisions.
“Bub, ye’ve met Professer Carlton, the warden. Professer, this younker is Stanley Malcolm, a city chap, who is trying his best to git killed in the woods.”
The professor warmly shook Stanley by the hand, smiling quizzically at Abner’s brusque introduction. “I feared you would be unable to make my home,” he explained, “and so I’ve taken the liberty to bring down some food.”
“Take all those liberties ye want to so far as I’m consarned, Professer,” earnestly entreated Abner, tearing the coverings from the baskets. “Wal, by the jumping jing!”
“Nothing wrong, I trust,” cried the professor, alarmed at the outcry.
“Nothing wrong,” bellowed Abner, presenting a radiant face. “Why, Red! Why, Bub! Look here!” And he exposed the contents to view. “In all my dreams I never pictered anything better’n a slice of salt pork and a crust of bread. And here, as I live, is fresh biscuit, real ham, pertaters cooked as I never believed they was cooked outside of heaven, and red stuff in jars—”
“That’s jelly,” laughed the professor, winking at the boys. “My daughter had just fin-
