“Well, the patrol wouldn’t part with G. Lord for a seagoing yacht.”
“Just the same, I’d like to be alone with you a little longer, Harry, honest, I would.—I heard Red Deer tell my father how important it is in camping to find pure water. He said fellows about the age of the older ones in our troop are liable to typhoid fever. I hope you’ll never get that, Harry.”
“Kid, you’re a great old boy.”
“Let’s feel your muscle, will you, Harry?”
Harry went over, smiling, and bent his arm slowly back and forth.
“My, you wouldn’t think a fellow as thin as you would have a muscle like that, Harry.”
Harry laughed outright, and doubling his fist, thrust it gently into the younger boy’s upturned face.
The next morning they went into Port Henry, and found the village in gala attire. It was their purpose to hire a canoe, and continue their explorations along the shore and up the smaller streams. This would be easier than mountain-climbing (of which Harry thought Gordon had had enough), and since there was now some reason to expect to find camp along the shore, a little paddling about, as Harry said, would not go half bad.
“Port Henry’s dressed up as if she was going to graduate,—hey, Kid?”
“She certainly has her pink sash on. I wonder what’s up.”