The whistle of the yacht sounded shrilly, and in a moment all the campers were running swiftly toward the dock. No one spoke, but the canoe was now being paddled toward them, and in a brief time such a shout rang out from the watchers as was seldom heard on the great river.
“It’s Ben, it’s Ben!” cried Jock; and instantly his companions joined in the word.
There could be no doubt about it now, for even Ben’s face could be seen as he occasionally turned and glanced at them. The yacht whistled again, as if the people on board shared in the manifest excitement of the camp, and then turned and steamed up the river, leaving a long trail of dark smoke behind it. None of the boys marked her departure, however, interested as they would ordinarily have been in the approach of such a beautiful visitor, for they were all intent upon the canoe and its occupant now.
Nearer and nearer came the canoe, and soon it was close to the shore. In their eagerness, the boys ran into the water, and to save himself Ben was compelled to relinquish his paddle, and suffer himself to be drawn up on the beach. As soon as he was safely landed, there was a scene enacted which none of them ever forgot. Jock was laughing and crying at the same time, and even the phlegmatic Bob was not unmoved.
“You rascal!” he said at last, when a momentary lull came, “what do you mean? Give an account of yourself, sir!”
“Here I am,” replied Ben, evidently not unmoved by his reception. “Proceed, my lord, and do as it seemeth good in thy sight.”
“Where have you been, Ben?” said Jock, eagerly. “Tell us about it.”
“Mebbe he wants some dinner, first,” suggested Ethan, who was not the least unmoved of the party. “He can tell us while he’s eatin’.”
“We’re all hungry, now,” said Bert; “we’ve been fasting while you’ve been gone, Ben. Don’t we look so?”
“Fasting, fasting?” exclaimed Ben; “then you must have suffered keenly. I’m as hungry as a bear, myself. Come on, and I’ll tell you all about it, while I’m sampling Ethan’s wares.”