going to knock a board off the foot of that bunk, to-night, or else
sleep on the floor. Was wood scarce, Bill, when you built that bed?"

"Carpenter was a little feller," chuckled Bill, "and I guess he
measured it by himself. Charged a full length price, though, I
remember! I meant to tell you when you hired that room, Jack, that
you better take the axe to bed with you. Sure, knock a board off;
two boards, if you like. Take _all_ the boards off!" urged Bill, in
a burst of generosity. "You might better be making that bunk over,
m'son, than trying to take the whole blamed town apart and put it
together again, like you was doing last night." In this way Bill
tactfully swung to the subject that lay heavy on his mind.

Jack borrowed a match, cupped his fingers around his lips that wanted
to part in a smile, and lighted his before-breakfast cigarette--though
the sun hung almost straight overhead.

"So that's it," he observed, when the smoke took on the sweet aroma
of a very mild tobacco. "I saw by the back of your neck that you had
something on your mind. What's the matter, Bill? Don't you think the
old town needs taking apart?"

"Oh, it needs it, all right. But it's too big a job for one man to
tackle. You leave that to Daddy Time; he's the only reformer--"

"Say, Bill, I never attempted to reform anybody or anything in my
life; I'd hate to begin with a job the size of this." He waved his
cigarette toward the shifting crowd. "But I do think--"

"And right there's where you make a big mistake. You don't want to