“Against Doctor Spellman!” exclaimed Burton; “you don’t mean Doctor Wilson Spellman?”
“That’s his name.”
“Where is he?”
Alvin lifted his paddle and pointed a little away ahead and to the right.
“He has put up one of those patent houses among the trees, where you can’t see it from the lake, though we observe the smoke from his fire now and then. There he and his wife and little girl Ruth are spending several weeks in the most sensible manner possible.”
“Why, he’s my uncle,” added the surprised and delighted Burton; “I knew he had gone on an outing in Maine, but thought it was at the Rangely Lakes. Now, as the expression goes, isn’t that ‘funny’?”
“You will like to call on him?”
“Most certainly; I’m very fond of him, and of Aunt Susie and Ruth.”
The boat was sheered toward land at a point where the canoe of the physician was seen drawn up the bank. The two tramps stood so motionless and fixed in their attention that they suggested a couple of scarecrows. Mike turned his head and grinned.
“Head the boat toward them, as if ye intinded to call and lave yer cards.”