replied, and without waiting for any further suggestions started for
the woodshed to get his rod and line.

He was soon sitting on the end of the log carriage under the shelter
of the saw-mill roof, his line dangling into the water of the forebay,
waiting for a bite. He had been seated only a few moments when his
attention was attracted by a small automobile bouncing over the deep-
rutted road, a few yards to the south of the mill. When it got nearly
opposite, one of the rear tires, with a loud report, blew out, and it
came to a sudden stop. Two men got out of the car, but after looking
up at the sky decided to wait until the shower was over before making
the repairs. So, turning up their coat collars, they ran over to the
shelter of the mill.

They did not seem to notice Bob as they came up a plank at the
opposite end, but sat down on a log with their back to him. As they
seated themselves, one of the men took out his cigar case and passed
it to the other.

"We'd better be careful about smoking in a saw mill, John, don't you
think?" remarked the other, as he hesitated to take the proffered
cigar.

"Oh, that's all right, Al," said his friend. "Just be careful where
you throw the match."

"This must be a pretty old mill, John," said the one called "Al," a
few moments later, as, his cigar lighted, he gazed around at the
structure.