One more day of beautiful sport on the crystal stream that ran through the beautiful valley, and the pleasant party of new-made friends met around the camp fire for the last time.
“I have got to get back for my haying,” said Chet, who had proved himself a fine angler as well as a good companion.
“The same for me,” added the young rancher from the head of the lake. So it was agreed that on the next morning they should separate.
CHAPTER XXXII
AT BILLY’S RANCH
The blue smoke of their last camp fire on the South Fork rose almost straight in the still air of a clear summer day as their party sat around their last breakfast. Although not actually at the end of their journey, they felt that now they were heading away from these interesting scenes, so that a sort of sadness fell upon them.
“Cheer up, fellows!” said Billy Williams. “You are not out of scenery, nor out of sport yet, by any means, if you want to stop for sport. Besides, there is one other thing we haven’t finished yet,” he added turning to Uncle Dick.
“Feel in your right-hand waistcoat pocket, Jesse,” said the latter.