"There!" he said, "I guess you'll remember now that you belong to me,—whether you call yourself engaged or not! Mad?"
"Yes," she responded, but the one swift glance she gave him belied her words.
"You'll get over it," he said, cheerfully. "I'd like to kiss you again, though. May I?"
"When you come back," she said, and Peter waited.
CHAPTER II
The Labrador Wild
It was late in July before Peter Boots marshaled his merry men and let himself be marshaled by the guide, Joshua, on the trip of exploration and recreation.
A liner took them as far as Newfoundland, and at St. John's, a smaller steamer, the Victoria Lake, received them for their journey farther North. This ship belonged to a sealing fleet and also carried mails. It was not especially comfortable, and neither staterooms nor food were of the best.
But Peter was discomfort-proof, and his negligence of bothersome details and happy acceptance of existing conditions set a standard for the manners and customs of their party. Joshua, who had come to New York City to meet them, was not, by nature, possessed of the sort of heart that doeth good like medicine. But under the sunny smile of Peter's blue eyes, his customary scowl softened to a look of mild wonder at the effervescent gayety of the man who was yet so efficient and even hard-working when occasion required it.