there were no inhabitants in these wildernesses all that
time ago. If you'd thought a bit longer, you might have hit upon the
true an' very commonplace explanation. Y'see, the stones haven't even
been in the lake long enough to get a growth of weeds and moss on 'em.
As a matter of fact, they've been there only a very few winters--since
the time when the name 'Kiddie' was more appropriate to me than it is
now. There was a big frost; the lake was frozen over. I'd the boyish
idea that it 'ld be int'restin' t' build a house on the ice. There was
no snow; stones were handier 'n timber. I carted the stones here on my
sled. I built 'em in a circle. Snow came, an' I finished the buildin'
with snow. You c'n sure guess the rest."

"Yes, course I can," said Rube. "When the snow an' ice melted, the
stones sank straight down, an' fell to the bottom in a ring. What did
I say just now, Kiddie? Thar ain't no trippin' you up or catchin' you
nappin'."

"I dunno if you're aware of it, Rube," resumed Kiddie, "but for the
past two or three minutes I've had the corner of my eye on a canoe
that's comin' this way down the lake. Who's at the paddle? 'Tain't
Gideon's way of paddlin'. 'Tain't Abe Harum. Who d'ye reckon it c'n
be?"

Rube watched the approaching canoe. It had appeared suddenly from
beyond a jutting promontory of spruce trees.

"Dunno," he answered, "don't reco'nize him. Seems like as Gid had
loaned the canoe t' a stranger. An' yet I seem t' have seen that
pinky-red shirt before, an' that straight-rimmed Stetson hat."

"Looks t' me like Sheriff Blagg," said Kiddie. "What's he want,
cavortin' about on the lake searchin' for us? He's been t' our first
campin' ground. Now he's shapin' for the island, led by our
fire-smoke."

[Illustration: "Looks to me like Sheriff Blagg," said Kiddie.]

Kiddie whistled a shrill, long, tremulous note. He was an uncommonly
good whistler. The sound was echoed and re-echoed from every chasm and
canyon on the far shores of the lake; it might have been heard many
miles away.

Above the island and over the forest the air was sprinkled with
startled birds; from the dark ravine of Laramie Pass a pair of eagles
took flight.

Isa Blagg drew his paddle and waved his hat. He followed Kiddie's
canoe into the little bay that was its mooring place on the farther
side of the island.

"Located you at last!" he said, as he stepped ashore. "Gid Birkenshaw
told me I sh'd find you so