there might be a river or an ocean. "Its name is Opal Lake. This old boat
is good and strong though. It'll carry us across all right."

Once again there was a long pause before the stranger spoke. "Oh yis!"
he suddenly exclaimed, "There's me baggage, and me almost forgettin' of
it! Will ye help me a wee bit with it? Sure 'tis not far!"

The kindly and somewhat coaxing voice of the old fellow, whose brogue was
just enough to give a pleasant quaintness to his speech, amused MacLester
and he assented readily enough to the request made of him. He threw a
loop of the scow's anchor rope over a stub projecting from the water and
sprang ashore. He did not notice in the darkness that his leap broke the
fragile branch securing the boat, allowing her to drift, but at once said:

"We'll have to wiggle some, for they'll be looking for me in camp pretty
shortly."

"Sure, 'tis not far," the man again said pleasantly, and clapping his
straw hat down over his head till it almost concealed his ears, he led
the way into the woods.

"Me name is Smith--Jawn Smith. What's your'n thin?" spoke the genial
Irishman, as the two walked quite rapidly, despite the darkness.

"MacLester--I'm Scotch," said Dave, smiling to himself over the thought
that his new friend plainly was not French.

Mr. Smith made no reply and a long distance had been covered when Dave
spoke again.

"How far back are you--that is, your baggage? We'll never find the lake
again, till morning, if we don't watch out."

"Sure, 'tis not far now any more," came the quite unsatisfactory answer.
"Is it tired ye air?"

"No--but--great guns!"

With no other remark Dave continued close behind or alongside his guide
for a long time--a very long time, it seemed to him,--possibly a quarter
hour. Then--

"Where in the world are we bound for?" he asked pretty sharply.

"Sure, ye'll not lave me," was the answer, quite pleadingly.

With a decided mixture of feelings Dave said, "Couldn't you do without
your baggage until morning?" But in his thoughts he added: "I've heard
of wild Irishmen, and I guess I've met one, too." Still, he smiled in
a grim way, reflecting further that he, also, would have a stirring
personal adventure to report in camp, and he would see it through now
at all hazards.

MacLester was certainly right. He would have a story of personal
adventure to relate when he parted company with "Jawn Smith." But this
was something he was not to succeed in doing so so