foreseen it, knowing the
man as I did. We were built on the same lines, practically the same size,
and we had outfitted together for the trip. He wore high, brown shoes
spiked for mountain climbing, exactly like mine; he even matched the marks
of that heel. But Sandy wouldn't stand for it. He declared there was a
third man who had gone up Rocky Brook and had not come back. One of the
squaws who had seen me agreed with him, but they were bound and taken to
the encampment. The next morning an Indian found my coat and shoes lodged
on a gravel bar and picked up my trail. The camp moved then by canoe
around to the mouth of the Duckabush. taking the prisoners with them, and
waited for my trailers to come down. They had discovered me on the log
crossing when it fell, and believed I was drowned."

There was another pause. Mrs. Weatherbee sighed and leaned back in her
chair; then Mrs. Feversham said: "And they refused to let your substitute
go?"

Tisdale nodded. "He was brought with Sandy along to the Lilliwaup. The
Indians were traveling home, and no doubt the reservation influence had
restrained them; still, they were staying a second night on the Lilliwaup,
and when Robert spoke to them they were sullen and ugly. That was why he
had hurried away to bring the superintendent down. He had started in his
Peterboro but expected to find a man on the way who would take him on in
his motor-boat. Once during the night John had drifted close to the camp
to listen, but things were quiet, and they had bridged the morning with a
little fishing and sketching up-stream.

"'Suppose,' I said at last, 'suppose you had been afraid of me. I should
be doubling back to the Duckabush now. As it is, I wouldn't give much for
their opinion of me.'

"'I wish you could have heard that man Sandy,' she said, and--did I tell
you she had a very nice smile? 'He called you true gold.' And while she
went on to repeat the rest he had told her, it struck me pleasantly I was
listening to my own obituary. But the steamer was drawing close. She
whistled the landing, and the girl dipped her oars again, pulling her
long, even strokes. I threw off the rug and sat erect, ready to ease the
boat off as we came alongside. And there on the lower deck watching us
stood a young fellow whom, from his resemblance to her, I knew as brother
Robert, with the superintendent from the reservation, backed by the whole
patrol. Then my old friend Doctor Wise, the new coroner at Hood