"He is waking," said her husband suddenly.
She looked at the boy in a startled fashion, then she bent over him, kissed him quickly and lightly, and slipped back behind the huge tree looking down on his slumbers.
The man appearing more puzzled than ever, peered at the boy through his glasses, and taking off his cap threw it on the ground, and anxiously pushed back the wave of brown hair on his forehead.
A light wind rustled through the wood, bringing on its wings the urgent call of a bird for its mate.
Our boy woke up slowly, still muttering something about "Margie," and blinked at his father with sleepy eyes.
Finally he sprang to his feet with a joyful cry and threw himself on his father's neck.
"Oh! Where did you come from? How well you look!—Are you quite strong again?—Where are John and Margie?"
Mr. Duff was a very happy man. He beamed on his boy and said enjoyably, "One question at a time and don't break my glasses, you young bear. What a hug!"
"It's a three months' hug," said Dallas. "Oh! where are you staying, Father, and how did you get to Poor Dog's Pool? Did you follow me? Oh! I believe you are at the Good American's and came here by the Merry-Tongue river trail."