"Ha, ha, ha! Poll must be feeling lonesome; when she talks like this, it's a sure sign she needs jolly company," replied the lawyer. "Maybe she thought we were chewed up by the grizzlies," added Mr. Brewster, forcing a gayety similar to that of Mr. Simms. "What's the matter with you men? Is there any danger from the fire?" demanded Polly. "No, the fire's burning over the down-slope on the other side. You know it won't come this way," returned Mrs. Brewster. "Well, then--where are the other men? Did those drunken miners shoot any one?" persisted the girl. "Don't bother with questions, Polly. Let us get some supper before we think of anything else," advised her mother. Mike was soon busy unpacking the outfit for cooking, and Mrs. Brewster joined him to give any assistance he might need. Polly went over to her father to try and get more satisfactory information from him, regarding that day's experiences. "Did you say the miners who came up ahead of us to-day were in Bill's custody, Daddy?" "Ah didn't say anything; but now Ah'll _tell_ you-all that they are shipped safely to a place where they can do no harm." "Oh! Did Bill go down the Trail with them?" continued Polly. "No, Bill's man went down-trail to watch in case of any new trouble." "See here, father! Out with your secret! What are you-all keeping from me?" asked Polly, anxiously. "Good gracious, Poll! Can't a man feel riled after such a wearing day and with nothing to eat, without his women-folks asking plaguey questions?" cried Mr. Brewster, testily. Polly was silenced for the moment, but she went out to the ledge where her mother was helping Mike, and there she began again. "Mother, I know something unusual concerns you-all, so you may as well confide in me." "I reckon the men are vexed because we lost all this day hunting up those wretched miners who must have accidentally set the fire going on the other side," was all the reply Polly received. Mike glanced up to look covertly at Mrs. Brewster and the inquisitive girl caught his expression. "Even Mike is laughing at the poor way in which you are fencing with me. Now treat me as if I were sensible--not like a baby, or like Bob!" demanded Polly. "Well, to tell the truth, Polly, I'm afraid to tell you everything. If those girls know they will go clean daffy," sighed Mrs. Brewster, passing her hand over a troubled brow. "Mother! Did I go daffy when that blizzard carried Choko over the ledge--and what did I do up on Grizzly when the snow and ice covered the trail? Did I lose my nerve?" At that moment Mr. Simms called out to Mike: "'Most done cookin', Mike? Ah want you-all to go with me to ketch a grizzly afore it is too dark to see him. Ah promised mah wife she should have a bear-skin rug this trip." Mike looked at Mrs. Brewster who nodded for him to go. She calmly took the ladle and continued stirring the soup that the Indian had been attending to, then Mike hurried after Simms.