DAYS ON THE NEPIGON. 



"You're on," said the laker. "Likewise 

 you," replied the Hobo, as he judiciously in- 

 serted himself. There was no feinting, no 

 flirting, no prolonged argument, for they 

 locked horns instantly, buckling down to bus- 

 iness, and went at it fin, feather and flannel. 

 This, of course, drew the Hobo's master, who 

 couldn't honorably resign under fire, into the 

 fight. That laker gave more battle than any 

 speckled we ever encountered. Acting not 

 only on the defensive, he was an aggressor as 

 well, side-stepping, advancing, retreating, 

 always looking for an opening, never suffer- 

 ing the grass to grow under his feet, even 

 though his whiskers were caught, and every 

 moment doing his inadequate best or worst 



Though all the subtle artifices at his com- 

 mand were practiced, none sufficed to free 

 him from the Hobo's clutches; but, Allah 

 be praised! all the details, the minutiae and 

 the appliances had been properly assembled 

 and were perfectly managed. It was a mo- 

 mentous problem confronting the Hobo, but 

 he understood his business thoroughly, and 



