“First time in all my life I ever had to tote home a string of fish in this way,” Toby confessed, though with brimming good humor. “Don’t I wish we were going through Chester with the bunch, though; how the fellows’ eyes would pop out of their heads to see this whopping big chap you landed. And I just know Steve will immediately 110 press both hands on his stomach, and say: ‘That’s about my size!’”
“Don’t be too hard on Steve, Toby,” chided Jack. “All of us have our failings, and for one I’ve got my appetite along with me pretty much all the time. He happens to be a big fellow, and in fine health, so he feels hungry as many as six times a day, especially when in the woods, where the air tones up the system.”
Leaving the river with some regret they started to head for the camp that lay possibly a mile and a half away “as the crow flies.” Sometimes they chatted as they walked along, and then again both of them would fall silent, being taken up it might be with thoughts of those left behind in dear old Chester.
It chanced to be during one of those quiet periods that Toby suddenly shook the pole from which the string of fish dangled, as though endeavoring to attract the attention of his companion without making any noise. Glancing toward the other Jack saw him pointing with outstretched finger; and as he turned his own eyes in the direction indicated he discovered the cause of Toby’s singular behavior.
There was a man in sight, though just then, as he was bending over, he had apparently failed to discover their nearby presence. Jack instantly sank down to the ground, and Toby imitated his example; after which they crawled closer together, until they could exchange whispers.
111“That’s the man!” was the first low exclamation Toby gave utterance to.
“The man who came to the camp, and asked questions, do you mean?” demanded Jack, taking a cautious peep over the tops of the bushes that afforded them an effectual screen.
“Yep, he’s the same one,” Toby went on to say, decisively. “I recognize his figure, and there, you can glimpse his face right now, which I’d know among a thousand. But whatever can he be doing with that pickax?”
Jack seemed to be taking a deep interest in the actions of the mysterious stranger. He watched him move a little further along, and then start to dig with vigorous blows. They were quite close to him, and his face could be plainly seen. Jack was studying it intently, as though he might be comparing its leading features with a certain description that had been given to him.
When presently Toby saw his chum starting to get his camera in working order he drew a breath of admiration, for he guessed that Jack was intending to try to secure a snapshot of the man working with that pickax, as though desirous of offering it as positive proof that could not be denied.