With Ed and his father riding along on the wagon, Mrs. Curwood followed along behind in the buggy. Jim had still other ideas since Ed had brought his dog Jack along. So for most of the eight long, dusty miles, Jim and his faithful hound Jack played and walked behind the caravan.
It has always been said that early impressions in life bear greatly upon one’s future. So it was then in Jim Curwood’s case. His life on the farm as a child taught him more and more the love of the open roads and the forests. For on that day when the family returned to their farm, eight miles distant from Wakeman, Jim exclaimed:
“Gosh Mom, it’s great to be back home again! The woods are so full of wild flowers, and the old pond is crowded with big, old frogs, too.”
Skinny Hill, having heard from Ed that the family was once more going to return to the neighborhood, had been on the watch for his pal Jim since shortly after daybreak. And hardly had the creaky old wagon and buggy rounded the bend in the road than Skinny was running for all he was worth to meet his chum. In his left hand was an old, black felt hat which he was waving wildly above his head, as he shouted and whistled.
“Hello, Slip! Hello there, Slip!”
The two youngsters did not even shake hands or clasp each other in their arms. Instead they both just stood there in the middle of the dusty road with wide grins.
“My gosh, you’re home, ain’t you?” Skinny spoke breathlessly.
“Yep!”
With those few words Jim and Skinny started walking up the road behind the buggy and wagon.
During the following three days Skinny and Jim were running all over the surrounding territory looking over together what they had claimed to be their own several months before. Through the wooded strips and across the fields they went, taking in all the glory of “secret country.”