rk that
stretcher again."

"Huh! I like that!" grunted Ethan, though he must have meant it in
sarcasm, for his tone showed anything but enthusiasm. "We all
congratulated ourselves on the way up here on the fact that we'd have it
easy going out of the woods, because all that canned stuff and other
grub would be devoured. And now by jinks! if we don't have to lug a
_man_ out. Whee!"

"But there's no other way, Ethan; and you'd be the last fellow to vote
to leave him behind, if I know you," ventured Phil.

"Sure, I would, and don't you mind how I grumble every little while,
Phil. My grandfather on my mother's side was a whaler, and I guess now I
must have inherited his sailor way of growling. I try to cure myself of
the habit, but she will break out once in a while. It's harmless, you
know; it comes from the mouth but not from the heart."

Phil laughed softly.

"I haven't chummed with you as long as this not to know you like a book,
old fellow," he said, affectionately, as he laid a hand on the other's
shoulder. "We've had some pretty good times, together with X-Ray Tyson
and jolly old Lub; and we hope to enjoy a lot more. Wait till we get
down there on Currituck Sound this fall, when the ducks are arriving in
flocks. You know I've got the finest little shooting-box located there
you ever heard tell of. And, say, perhaps we won't have the grandest
time going."

"I hope nothing will keep us from going along with you, that's all,"
said Ethan, drawing a long breath; for gunning was his one particular
hobby, and the prospect of a week or two on those famous ducking-grounds
appealed irresistibly to his hunter's heart.

"This has been the hottest day we've struck since we came up here," said
X-Ray Tyson just then, as he came sauntering up, wiping his forehead
with his big red bandanna.

"Yes, and unless I'm a poor weather prophet," added Phil, taking a look
aloft as he spoke, "we're just about due for a whacker of a storm. No
leaving my camera out-of-doors this night, I tell you."

"We'll all be glad of a decent roof over our heads, if she comes on to
blow and rain great guns," Ethan remarked.

"How about the pictures you were printing a while ago, Phil; turn out
well?" asked the last comer.

"See for yourself," he was told, as Phil drew a little book out of his
pocket, among the leaves of which he had a number of fresh prints.

"Well, that one of the moose poking his head between the little trees is
a jim-dandy,