FLY-FISHING IN MAINE LAKES. 205 



" Taking the stool in his other hand as he passed 

 it, Jake was soon by the side of my bunk ; setting 

 it softly down, he mounted it, bringing himself a 

 little more than waist-high against my body as I 

 lay. Cat-like I watched every movement with 

 half-closed eyes, Pete doing the same from the 

 doorway where he remained. My finger was on 

 the trigger of my pistol, and I was ready to pull 

 at the first real murderous action on the part of 

 Jake. He ran his finger in a cruel manner across 

 the edge of his knife, exchanged a significant glance 

 with Pete, raised himself to his full height, and in 

 an instant cut a rousing great slice from the leg 

 of venison, which I had quite forgotten, over my 

 head ! " 



"And is that all there was about it?" 



" That's all : the boys thought I was pretty well 

 used up, and they would let me sleep until break- 

 fast was ready, supposing they could carve the 

 venison without waking me." 



" How about the breakdown? " 



"All a stupid blunder on my part, another one 

 of those unaccountable mysterious forces that drive 

 you on to absurd conclusions. The boys proved 

 as fine fellows as ever drove mules, and worked for 

 me for several months." 



"And that little scar on your forehead?" 



