THE tall, handsome young man who came into view and who had been referred to as “Duke de Sassy” stopped short, his music nipped in two, and for an instant stood speechless. It was the same with Harvey Hamilton, who stared as if unable to believe his eyes. Val Hunter and Fred Wadsworth doubled over with laughter, and dropped on the log behind them.
The latest arrival was the first to regain his self-command. It was a gasp rather than an exclamation:
“Well, I’ll be hanged!”
“Dick, as sure as I’m alive!” responded Harvey, rushing forward and grasping the hand of his elder brother, who dropped the string of fish he was carrying, and flinging an arm over the shoulders of the younger, pressed him to his breast. There could be no mistaking the affection of the two for each other, and both Hunter and Wadsworth felt ashamed of the harmless trick played their caller. They abruptly stopped their merriment and the Southerner swallowed a lump in his throat. He had once been blessed with a younger brother, but kissed him their long, last farewell two years before. Wadsworth had never passed through the sorrowful experience, but he saw the emotion of his friend and respected it.
Dick and Harvey shook hands several times, laughed, slapped each other on the back, and asked and answered numerous questions before they awoke to the fact that others were near. Harvey had to tell about home and all the news concerning the folks. Neither they nor Harvey had thought of the brothers meeting, though it would seem that the fact that Harvey’s destination was the Adirondacks, where Dick was known to be, ought to have suggested the possibility of such a thing.
Grouped at the front of the tent the four youths had a merry chat, for all were in high spirits.
“The minute I looked at Harvey,” said Hunter, “I noticed his resemblance to Dick, but did not suspect the relationship until he gave his name. Then Fred and I knew before he furnished any more particulars that you were brothers. Since the Duke was absent, we felt it our duty to acquaint Harvey with a few facts about his big brother, though the task was anything but pleasant.”
“It seemed to give both of you a mighty lot of pleasure,” said Harvey, who was so glad to see Dick that he reached over and shook hands with him again.
“Possibly you are correct, though we tried to keep down all signs of it, which reminds me that the dinner hour is approaching and even now is at hand.”
It being the turn of Hunter to serve in the culinary department, he sprang to his feet, walked over to where Dick Hamilton had dropped his string of mountain bass and carried them to the edge of the lake, where he began dressing and preparing them for the fire, which was burning briskly in the rough stone stove whose pattern, you will recall, was described in the “Catamount Series.”