“All right,” said Merriwell, stiffly. “I’ll get the rifle, and I’ll do it alone. How far does the steamer run?”
“To the head of the lake.”
“What other places are there up that way?”
“Weston, South Bancroft and Orient on the west side of the lake; Pemberton Ridge and North Lake on the New Brunswick side.”
“All small places?”
“Yes.”
“How much do I owe you for the trouble you have taken?”
“No trouble, young fellow; so you don’t owe me anything. But take my advice, stay here and get a good rest to-night. You can go up the lake on the steamer to-morrow and have a fine sail. Perhaps you will not be able to get a team at Forest Station to land you in Forest City to-night if you go there. You are taking chances.”
“This seems to be a game of chance, anyway,” laughed Frank; “but I am bound to play it to the limit.”