to be called by the familiar name again. Taking him lightly by the scruff of the neck, Atkinson led him towards the kitchen door, where his wife stood noncommittally eying the scene.
"Mother," said he, "this here's a tame mountain lion, what the man that owns him sets great store by. I've just seen a notice at the post office, offering three hundred dollars' reward fer gettin' him back."
"Yes, Jim A'kinson, an' you come nigh shootin' the poor beast, if it hadn't 'a' been for Sadie." And Mrs. Atkinson sniffed as if to imply that men had no sense at all. Before her husband could think of any suitable retort, Sadie headed off the argument by crying joyously: "Then we can keep him here, can't we, Daddy?"
"Sure an' sartain," answered Atkinson, "till this here Mr. Merivale comes fer him. An' we'll take right good keer o' him, too. Gosh, Mother, but that three hundred dollars is goin' to come in handy, with the mortgage money due nex' month, and you wantin' a new coat."
Her objection to having animals in her spotless kitchen quite forgotten, Mrs. Atkinson led the way indoors, and herself offered Mishi a tin plateful of buttered pancakes. Mishi devoured them politely, though he would have preferred a chicken. Then, seating himself on his haunches before the kitchen fire, he began to wash his face
