A leak in his cabin roof--quite consistent with his careless, improvident habits--had roused him at 4 A.M., with a flooded "bunk" and wet blankets.

The chips from his wood pile refused to kindle a fire to dry his bedclothes, and he had recourse to a more provident neighbor's to supply the deficiency.

This was nearly opposite.

Mr.
Cassius crossed the highway, and stopped suddenly.

Something glittered in the nearest red pool before him.