"You give me something to do—something where I don't have to lift heavy weights or carry boxes—and watch me work! I tell you, it's what I've been looking for, and I didn't know it; I'll get as husky as you are and all sunburnt. Tell me the sort of furs and the kind of pistols to buy, and I'll put ten thousand dollars in the scheme. That's all I can spare."
"You won't need either furs or firearms," laughed Boyd. "When we get back to Kalvik the days will be long and hot, and the whole country will be a blaze of wild flowers."
"That's fine! I love flowers. If I can't catch fish for the cannery,
I'll make up for it in some other way."
"Can you keep books?"
"No; but I can play a mandolin," Clyde offered, optimistically. "I guess a little music would sound pretty good up there in the wilderness."
"Can you play a mandolin?" inquired "Fingerless" Fraser, observing the young fellow with grave curiosity.
"Sure; I'm out of practice, but—"
"Take him!" said Fraser, turning upon Emerson.
"He can set on the front porch of the cannery with wild flowers in his hair and play La Paloma. It will make those other fish-houses mad with jealousy. Get a window-box and a hammock, and maybe Willis Marsh will run in and spend his evenings with you."
"Don't josh!" insisted Clyde, seriously. "I want to go—"