Bub. “No use crying over spilled milk. If we can’t find anything, we can’t, and we might as well eat. The company can’t blame us for failing to do the impossible.”
“I hate to give up,” remonstrated Stanley.
“Seeing it’s the first time I ever failed I kind of feel the same way,” shortly informed Abner. “Start a small blaze, Bub.”
“Going to risk a fire?” inquired Bub, his tone showing surprise.
“Yas, I’m going to risk a fire,” returned Abner, completely losing his patience. “Is it fer me or one ye younkers to say what I’ll risk?”
“Certainly it is for you, Mister Whitten,” politely answered Bub.
“Wal, git busy, then. I’m going to have some hot coffee no matter what happens. Only, ye needn’t feel called upon to make a bonfire.”
But the steaming coffee did not work any radical change in the veteran’s temperament. It was not the discomforts of the day that affected him; it was the knowledge that he had failed for the first time in his long career.
“It ain’t fair,” the youths heard him muttering to himself as he moodily filled his pipe. “It ain’t right to send me up to do detective
