me and it. I stopped, thinking that as 

 good a place as any to await develop- 

 ments. 



" It's a skunk all right," Nimrod an- 

 nounced gleefully. 



The box was rather heavy, so Nim- 

 rod went to Yeddar's, which was not far 

 away, to see if he could get one of the 

 loungers to help carry the captive to a 

 large wire cage that we had rigged up 

 near our shack. 



There were six men near the office, 

 bronzed mountaineers, men of guns and 

 grit, men who had spent their lives 

 facing danger; but, when it came to fac- 

 ing a skunk, each looked at Nimrod 

 as one would at a crazy man and had 

 important business elsewhere. For once 

 I thoroughly appreciated their point of 

 view, but as there was no one else I 

 took one end of the box, and we started. 



