"I'd like t' kill th' whole lay-out as she sleeps," snarled the cook, shaking his fist.
"So would I," replied FitzPatrick.
Then as they looked, a thin wreath of smoke curled from under the open doorway and spread lazily in the frosty air. Another followed; another; still another. The cabin was afire.
"They've kicked over th' stove again," said FitzPatrick, seating himself on a stump. His eyes blazed with wrath and bitterness.
"What yo' goin' to do?" asked the cook.
"Sit here," replied FitzPatrick, grimly.
The cook started forward.
"Stop!" shouted the scaler, fiercely; "if you move a step, I'll break your back!"
The cook stared at him through saucer eyes.
"But they'd be burnt alive!" he objected, wildly.