“No? Who for, then?”
“For John Caribou. He sacrificed his own half-brother to save us from being punished as poachers, and I’d like to send him that handsome rifle as a token of my regard for him.”
“It’s a good idea,” declared Bruce, at once, “if you can get that rifle at a reasonable figure, and it really will shoot all right. No one but you, Merry, would have thought of such a thing. Diamond was convinced at last that the guide, even though he was an Indian, was not treacherous; but neither he nor I thought of rewarding him for his true nobility.”
“I thought of it,” said Frank; “and I offered John money.”
“He would not take it?”
“Not a cent more than he had agreed to take to act as our guide. If I send him that rifle, providing it is all right, it will be something he will appreciate.”
By this time the city sportsmen were returning, having leaned the board against the tree once more. They were laughing with triumph, and Archie exclaimed:
“The wifle is beginning to shoot better, don’t yer ’now. Perhaps it may come wound all wight.”
“Let me try it?” asked Frank.
“No, thir,” said the owner; “I couldn’t think of it. You have youah own. Let’s see if you can hit that board again, thir.”