"It 'ud better go in the next room right away. We don't want to be falling over it."
As they were carrying it in, Nora, with a rather helpless air, carried a couple of logs and a handful of newspapers over from the pile in the corner.
"Here, you'll never be able to light a fire with logs like that. Where's that darned ax? I'll chop 'em for you. I guess you'll have plenty to do getting the shack tidy."
After a little searching, he found the ax back of the wood-pile and set himself to splitting the logs. In the meantime, Sharp, who had made another pilgrimage to the rig, returned carrying his friend's grip and gun.
"Now, that's real good of you, Sid."
"Get any shooting down at Dyer, Frank?"
"There was a rare lot of prairie chickens round, but I didn't get out more than a couple of days."
"Well," said Sharp, taking off his fur cap and scratching his head, "I guess I'll be gettin' back home now."
"Oh, stay and have a cup of tea, won't you?"
"Do," said Nora, seconding the invitation.