THE ASSOCIATED PIRATES. 



12 5 



sions pictured on their faces. There were 

 ejaculations of surprise, but the veteran fox 

 hunter calmly drew a match across his 

 trousers, at a place already marked by a 

 thousand brownish streaks, showing where 

 he was in the habit of kindling his lucifers. 

 Then he puffed a soothing whiff or 2, while 

 the match slowly burned upward, until it 

 scorched his fingers. 



" Yes, the mystery was solved," he 

 slowly began, " but it was not until a year 

 later. The following autumn Sol and I 

 were ag'in on our way to the ridges, at the 

 base of the mountain. Before the sun was 

 fairly up the dogs started a fox near the 

 same spot where Tige and Hunter struck 

 the trail that mornin' I was tellin' you 

 about. 



" I was in the openin' beyond where my 

 fox had disappeared, when I got a shot and 

 broke the fox's leg. The dogs were so 

 close they run him in right away. We both 

 pulled up to where they were soundin', an' 

 found 'em within 3 feet of the spot where 

 my fox laid down the year before. 



" They were barkin' under the end of the 



old log, close to the spot where I had last 

 seen the fox. Years previous the log had 

 been burned, under the end, leavin' a sort 

 of canopy stickin' out. Under this was a 

 woodchuck hole, around which thick grass 

 was growin'. We got some sharp stakes 

 and soon dug out the wounded fox. In the 

 hole, close beside where he lay, was the 

 skeleton of a fox. 



" My theory as to how the other one dis- 

 appeared? 



"Well, I prob'ly put a shot right through 

 his eyes, when I let go at him at the corner 

 of the rock. He was dazed an' laid down to 

 sort of think it over. He didn't stir until 

 he heard the dog close onto him, an' then 

 he had just life enough to try to escape. 

 The animal's instinct directed him to the 

 woodchuck hole. 



" Hunter and Tige knew he was dead, 

 so they didn't make any more fuss about 

 it." 



Then Lon lit his pipe again, and his au- 

 dience pondered thoughtfully over sly rey- 

 nard's sagacity, even at the moment of 

 death. 



THE ASSOCIATED PIRATES. 



I. 



E. V. KEYSER. 



" Jerusalem the Golden," ejaculated the 

 skipper of the " Hippocampus," gazing 

 with awe at the cup modestly put forward 

 by Paresis Rafferty, for his share of the 

 punch. 



"Why didn't you bring a bath tub?" 

 ' asked the Converted Cowboy, emptying 

 about half the beverage into the yawning 

 receptacle. 



" Make some more, gentlemen, and don't 

 kick," put in the peace-loving Microbe. 

 " You have much for which to be thankful. 

 It was only my strongest arguments, 

 backed by the fact of my having the drop 

 on him, that prevented Paresis from bring- 

 ing our new 2-gallon kettle to the flowing 

 bowl." 



" Well, there's not much flow to it now," 

 grumbled the Hoodoo. " That fine, im- 

 ported thirst of his has made it dead low 

 tide; " and he thoughtfully poured what re- 

 mained of the liquid into his own pint 

 growler. Those left out of this deal re- 

 flected that it was the Hoodoo's turn to 

 wash the dishes on the morrow, so no 

 shooting ensued. 



The Associated Pirates were at it again, 

 and the committee of analytical chemistry 

 was passing judgment on the merits of a 

 new variety of spiritual refreshment, the 

 joint product of the Converted Cowboy 



and Hippocamponini. Another instalment 

 of punch was brewed and carefully placed 

 just beyond the reach of Paresis and the 

 Hoodoo; and things were going smoothly 

 — especially the punch — when the wind 

 veered to the South, and the presence of 

 the soap factory became evident. 



" It makes me think of my dear old 

 grandmother," said Grouty, wiping a tear 

 from his eye and leaving a trace of smut 

 on his classic nose. 



" I don't see the necessity for weeping, 

 at this date," observes Paresis. " She must 

 have died some time' ago, if she smells any- 

 thing like that." 



" To think of that infernal bit of pollu- 

 tion defacing the beauty of the Palisades! " 

 wailed Hippocamponini. 



" And dynamite so cheap! " added Pare- 

 sis, endeavoring, unsuccessfully, to squeeze 

 another cupful of liquid from the pail. 



" You mentioned a new kettle," re- 

 marked \ Hippocamponini, as the amuse- 

 ment at Paresis' failure subsided; "have 

 you been investing in a patent camp kit? " 



The Microbe gazed at him reproachfully. 

 " I know I'm young," he admitted, " but 

 not so young as that." 



" What's the matter with a patent camp 

 kit," asked the Novice, waking up. 



" Nothing whatever," answered the Con- 



