‘It’s Harmon!’ called Pud disgustedly. ‘He’s had nightmare, I guess. Harmon! Shut up that racket! Where are you?’ ‘Here I is! I can’ find the door! Oh, my golly, Mister Pud, please, sir, you-all let me in there!’ Then there was the sound of a stumbling body, the tent sagged and strained and Harmon fell in on his hands and knees, illumined by two flashlights. That something had frightened him half to death was plain, for his eyes were rolling and his teeth were chattering as he crawled to the nearest cot. ‘Oh, lawsy, lawsy,’ he sighed in relief. ‘Say, what’s your trouble?’ demanded Pud, striving to quiet his own jangling nerves by speaking very sternly. Tim, still half asleep, waved his pocket torch vaguely about the tent, his mouth open in bewilderment. ‘Mister Pud,’ answered Harmon hoarsely, ‘it was a-standin’ right over me when I woke up and seed it! Look like it was tryin’ to nuzzle the blanket offen me! My golly――’ ‘What was?’ asked Pud. ‘Yes, sir! Standin’ right on top o’ me, with its li’l’ ol’ eyes a-glarin’ sort o’ greenish an’ its nose right close to my face! My golly! It was jus’ a-goin’ to bite me when I woke up!’ ‘Say, for goodness’ sake! _What_ was going to bite you?’ ‘_It_ was!’ ‘Well, what was _it_?’ ‘That there varmint, Mister Pud! What I’m tellin’ you about! The skunk!’ ‘Skunk!’ echoed Pud and Tim in chorus. ‘_Skunk?_’ ‘Yes, sir, skunk! I seed the white stripes on him when he done run!’ ‘Gee!’ chuckled Pud. ‘A skunk! Why, a skunk wouldn’t hurt you, Harmon! I guess you scared him a heap worse’n he scared you.’ ‘No, sir, I didn’! How-come he wouldn’ harm me? Them things bite, Mister Pud!’ ‘Get out! Who ever heard of a skunk biting any one?’ ‘Besides,’ laughed Tim, ‘maybe it wasn’t a skunk at all. Maybe it was only a polecat.’ But Harmon was in no mood for such niceties. ‘Was you ever bit by a skunk, Mister Pud?’ he asked earnestly. ‘No, of course not.’ ‘Then how you know they don’ bite?’ demanded Harmon triumphantly. ‘Why――why――’ Pud felt that there was something utterly wrong with the other’s logic, but he couldn’t at the instant find the error, and Harmon continued with much conviction. ‘That skunk would ’a’ bit me for sure if I hadn’ woke up! Please, can’ I sleep in here, Mister Pud, with you-all? I’s scared to go back out yonder.’ ‘Well,’ began Pud hesitantly, glancing dubiously at Tim, ‘I suppose――’ ‘Sure, he can,’ asserted Tim, almost indignantly. ‘Have a heart, Pud!’ Considering that it was Tim who had protested, a few days before, against any such arrangement as was now proposed, Pud felt that he was being put in rather a false position, but Harmon’s fervently expressed delight drowned his sarcasm. ‘I’s certainly obliged,’ declared the darky. ‘Yes, sir! I’ll jus’ scrooch down here an’――’ ‘Without anything to lie on?’ exclaimed Tim. ‘Sakes alive, Harmon, go get your blanket!’