“Then you won’t burn them to save mine,” firmly declared Stanley.
“Nor mine,” cheerfully added Bub.
“I’d do it in a second to save ye, only I fear it wouldn’t work,” said Abner. “But let’s leave it be till we see where we’re at. See the East is beginning to show a streak of grey.”
“I can’t see it,” murmured Stanley.
“I can,” said Bub. “Soon you’ll hear some birds sound the first morning note. Then the whole chorus will break out, and then up comes the sun and along comes old Nick.”
The unexpected finale caused a flicker of a smile on Stanley’s set lips and he nodded approvingly at Bub’s undismayed spirit.
Very shortly the eastern horizon took on patches of grey in places, but so gradually that Stanley could not trace the change at first. Then without any warning a shaft of yellow shot through the somber mass and quickly became old gold, as if some giant smith were heating it red hot. Then a fan of glorious radiance flickered to the zenith and the sun was about to say “good morning.”
Taking advantage of the first streak of light Abner wheeled slowly about to get his bearings. He frowned at discovering he had wan-
