urnin' to yer mother next summer."

"Done!" cried March, springing up as well as his bruised muscles would
permit him, and seizing his friend enthusiastically by the hand. "I'll
stop with you and send home word by my comrades that I'll be back in
summer. That's capital!"

Mary seemed to be quite of the same opinion, for she looked quickly up
with a beaming smile.

"Well, so it is a good plan," said Dick somewhat gravely; "but don't act
in haste, else ye may ha' to repent at leisure. Go an' speak to yer
comrades; see what they advise ye to do, an' come again an' let me know.
And, now we're on that pint, I may tell ye that yer friends will be at
the head of a valley not four miles from here this very night, an' they
expect ye there."

"How d'ye know that?" cried March, breathless with amazement.

"Well, ye see, the Wild Man o' the West knows that you're in them parts;
he has seed you, an' knows where ye are, an' he met yer comrades, the
trappers, no later than yesterday, an' told 'em they'd find ye in the
valley I spoke of just now; so we must be up an' away to meet 'em."

Dick rose as he spoke and began to make preparation to depart.

"But how came _you_ to know this?" inquired the astonished youth.

"Why, the Wild Man an' me's oncommon intimate, d'ye see? In fact, I may
say we're jist inseparable companions, an' so I come to know it that
way. But make haste. We've no time to lose."

"Good-bye, Mary," cried March with a cheerful smile, as he hurried out
of the cave after his eccentric companion. "I'll be back before long,
depend on't."

Mary nodded, and the two men were soon mounted and out of sight.

"I say, Dick," observed March as they rode along, "you _must_ get me to
see the Wild Man of the West; if you're so intimate with him, you can
easily bring him into the cave; now _won't_ you, Dick?"

"Well, as I can't help doin' it, I s'pose I may say yes at once."

"Can't help it, Dick! What mean you? I wish ye'd talk sense."

"Hist!" exclaimed the hunter, pulling up suddenly under the shelter of a
cliff. "Yonder come yer friends, sooner than I expected. I'll leave ye
here. They've not seed us yit, an' that wood 'll hide me till I git
away. Now, March," he added solemnly, "_remember yer promise_."

In another moment the wild hunter was gone, and March rode forward to
meet his comrades, who, having now caught sight of him, came up the
valley at full speed, shouting and waving their caps joyfully