"Don't you and Theo want to come into my cabin and enjoy my fire for a
while?" asked Mr. Croyden.
"Why, thank you, Croyden," answered Dr. Swift; "we might make you a
short call. We are off to bed early, however, so we must not stay
long."
Mr. Croyden's cabin proved to be a replica of the Swifts' own cozy
one, except that it was more sumptuously furnished; for Mr. Croyden,
who was a hunter as well as a fisherman, had adorned both couch and
floors with great bearskins, trophies of his luck.
As his guests entered he hurried forward to put another four-foot log
on the fire, after which he dragged out three steamer-chairs and
placed them before the blaze.
"All the comforts of home, you see," he said gaily.
"More comforts than some of us get at home," smiled Dr. Swift. "There
is nothing to equal this in New York."
For a moment none of them spoke; they were watching the scarlet rise
and fall of the flame.
"What a lot of company a fire is!" mused Dr. Swift.
"I know it," came from Mr. Croyden. "And did you ever think how easily
we can produce it? Within the space of a second we can start a blaze.
A fire was quite another problem for our forefathers who lived long
before matches were invented.
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