"Oh, is that all," replied one in disgust. "Deal the cards, Tim, and let's have another game."
"No, it's not all by a d— sight," and Pritchen helped himself to another plateful of beans. "But then if you fellows don't want to hear the rest, it's all right; it'll keep."
"Come, Bill," coaxed Perdue, "never mind Missouri; all he thinks about is cards. Let's have yer yarn."
"Well, what would you think if you found a book like that miles from nowhere?" replied Pritchen, who was most anxious to tell his story.
"'Tis queer, when ye come to think of it," soliloquized Perdue with a characteristic nod of the head. "It's very much out of the ordinary, I should say."
"And suppose you were out hunting," went on Pritchen, "and, reaching the Ibex cabin late at night, found the place looking as if hell had been let loose, and this book lying on the floor, what would you think? You'd wonder a d— lot, wouldn't you?"
"Sure," assented Perdue.
"And suppose in the morning, being somewhat suspicious, you nosed around a bit outside, and found a steep rock with two letters and a cross cut upon it, you would wonder some more, wouldn't you?"
"Y'bet," broke in Missouri, who had forgotten his cards in the story.
"Then when you saw wolf tracks on every hand, the snow all dug up at the foot of the rock, torn pieces of clothes lying around, and other things too terrible to mention, you would feel very sick, wouldn't you?"