Instantly Dick and Sandy straightened up, their eyes almost staring from their heads.
“Where?” they demanded in one voice.
“Oh, I see it now!” Sandy shouted. “Hold into mid-stream Toma, so we’ll meet him. Small canoe. Just one man. Wonder who it is?”
The canoe and its lone occupant drifted toward them. Closer and closer it came. The man, industriously plying his paddle, took form. Dick’s heart leaped and he suddenly went weak all over. He recognized the garb of that lonely traveller. No mistaking that broad-brimmed hat and scarlet coat. A mounted policeman! All of the boys had become so breathlessly interested in trying to determine the identity of the occupant of the canoe that he was within two hundred yards of them before any of them spoke again. Then, suddenly Dick raised his paddle and waved a frantic, hilarious greeting.
“Corporal Rand!” he shrieked.
The policeman had never received a more spontaneous and noisy welcome. The three chums howled and shrieked. They rent the air with their huzzas. In the stern, Sandy laughingly reached out, caught the prow of Rand’s canoe and both crafts floated down stream nearly fifty yards while they exchanged greetings. Then, as if moved by a common impulse they swerved to the left and presently disembarked at the edge of a sand-bar projecting out from shore.
“I never expected to meet any of you here,” stated the corporal, pulling up his canoe. “Thought you were all over at Fort Good Faith. In fact, I sent a letter over there less than a week ago, asking you to meet me at Half Way House.”
“You did?” gasped Dick and Sandy.
“Yes, and I was disappointed when you didn’t show up.”
Dick’s expression was one of amazement.