“‘Very well then, Captain Morrison, we’ll go on down the river and chart it. We’ll stop at Half Way House on our return.’”
Dick suddenly strode forward and placed an eager, trembling hand on the broad shoulders of the river pilot.
“And did you really chart the river?” he asked in a queer, tense voice.
“Yes, that’s what we did,” the other replied promptly. “We were away two weeks. Went three hundred and fifty miles by actual count.”
Dick suddenly threw his hat in the air.
“Whoopee!” he shouted,
CHAPTER XXX.
BACK FROM THE BARRACKS.
“Captain Morrison,” said Dick, shaking the pilot’s hand, “I can’t begin to tell you how thankful I am that I remained here tonight and listened to that interesting account of your experiences. It has solved a great problem for me.”
“What problem? I don’t understand. How have I helped you?” Captain Morrison’s questions came like staccato explosions.
“Did you ever hear of the dinosaur in the Lake of Many Islands?” Dick asked.