cook.

This uncertainty caused him to postpone his departure in search of the
only game available at that time of year. He thought he would hasten
developments, and bring Bandy-legs to the point.

"Something bothering you a bit, old fellow?" he remarked, presently.

The other looked around uneasily.

"Sure they won't come back on us yet a while, eh, Max?" he asked, eagerly.

"No danger of that," assured Max. "You can say what you want, and nobody
will hear you."

"Oh! Max, it's dreadful," began Bandy-legs.

"What is?" asked the other, though a sudden suspicion of the truth flashed
through his mind.

"About Steve. How could he be so mean?" Bandy-legs went on.

"Hello! what do you know about it?" demanded Max.

"_I saw him!_" answered the cook, shaking his head in a dolorous
fashion. "Say, I've been thinking it over all the time. I was awake when
you and Owen came in. And somehow, Max, I just feel awful about it. He must
be half crazy to do such a thing."

"Perhaps he is," admitted Max, cautiously. "But look here, do you mean you