weren't perfectly
sure of this, I wouldn't think of it, for I like you, and I know you
want to go into this more out of friendship for me and because your
imagination is touched, than from any business sense. But I'll accept,
gladly. And I'll do my best!"

"Hooray!" cried the boy, throwing his cap up in the air. "We'll do 'em
up in the first round!"

At last when Wallace Carpenter reluctantly quitted his friends on the
Ossawinamakee, he insisted on leaving with them a variety of the things
he had brought.

"I'm through with them," said he. "Next time I come up here we'll have a
camp of our own, won't we, Harry? And I do feel that I am awfully in you
fellows' debt. You've given me the best time I have ever had in my life,
and you've refused payment for the moccasins and things you've made for
me. I'd feel much better if you'd accept them,--just as keepsakes."

"All right, Wallace," replied Thorpe, "and much obliged."

"Don't forget to come straight to me when you get through estimating,
now, will you? Come to the house and stay. Our compact holds now, honest
Injin; doesn't it?" asked the boy anxiously.

"Honest Injin," laughed Thorpe. "Good-by."

The little canoe shot away down the current. The last Injin Charley and
Thorpe saw of the boy was as he turned the curve. His hat was off and
waving in his hand, his curls were blowing in the breeze, his eyes
sparkled with bright good-will, and his lips parted in a cheery halloo
of farewell.

"Him nice boy," repeated Injin Charley, turning to his canoe.

Chapter XX

Thus Thorpe and the Indian unexpectedly found themselves in the
possession of luxury. The outfit had not meant much to Wallace
Carpenter, for he had bought it in the city, where such things are
abundant and excite no remark; but to the woodsman each article
possessed a separate and particular value. The tent, an iron kettle, a
side of bacon, oatmeal, tea, matches, sugar, some canned goods, a box
of hard-tack,--these, in the woods, represented wealth. Wallace's
rifle chambered the .38 Winchester cartridge, which was unfortunate, for
Thorpe's .44 had barely a magazineful left.

The two men settled again into their customary ways of life. Things went
much as before, except that the flies and mosquitoes became thick.
To men as hardened as Thorpe and the Indian, these pests were not as
formidable as they would have been to anyone directly from the city, but
they were sufficiently annoying. Thorpe's old