Bill came forward to say good-by, and Ed and George grasped his hand affectionately. They thanked him for all the pleasure he had given them, and said they hoped some day to come out and see him again. Old Moze came wriggling toward them, and they stooped and petted him.
Then Westbrook spoke to his team, and the wagon bumped away over the long road. The boys waved their hats to Bill, who stood in the doorway, holding Moze by an ear to prevent him from following his departing friends.
At noon they halted, and Ben cooked a simple meal in the woods. This time the boys built the fire, and the two woodsmen declared it a proper one.
“Couldn’t have done that when you came in,” laughed Ben.
“We couldn’t do much of anything then,” replied Ed.
When they resumed their journey, the lads recalled many familiar spots along the way. They went safely over the very place where they had mired to the hubs before, and saw their own pile of rocks and the poles with which they had freed the wagon. They forded the stream which had come near capsizing the load. This time they had no trouble. They bounced and bumped over the rough “corduroy” bridges which had so excited their curiosity on the way to camp. Several times they flushed grouse from close beside the road, and as the birds rose with a roar of wings Ben looked at the lads and smiled, and George was reminded of his first fright in the woods. They started a deer from the edge of a swamp, and watched the nimble-footed creature go bounding along the road ahead of them. Thus the interesting ride continued, until late in the afternoon they drew up before the tiny log station.
The agent remembered them, and said they were lucky to reach there at that time, as an express was due to stop in thirty minutes. Had they missed it they would have been obliged to remain over until the next day. The boys quickly checked their baggage, and then came outside to await the arrival of the train.
“Ben, I’m sure we can never thank you half enough,” said Ed, with feeling.
“Don’t try,” laughed Ben; “I’ve enjoyed it as much as you have. The worst of it all is this breaking up of camp; a woodsman always hates it.” And as he turned to look up the track the boys thought they saw moisture in his kindly eyes. “Well, it hasn’t hurt you any,” he added, quickly recovering himself.
“I should say not,” said George. “I feel as if I could wrestle with a bear.”