One last look they cast in the direction of the fire, and then plunged into the depths of the pine woods.
Dolph wondered if fortune would ever throw them in contact with any of these persons again. True, they had not wholly enjoyed their association with the two men, but their thoughts must often go out to the little lass who was struggling with one of the greatest problems that can beset any of her sex, a task foolishly set her by the mother who was gone. And bravely was little Sallie endeavoring to fulfill her trust.
Amos knew just about where they were, and which direction they must head in order to reach the shore of the lake around the spot where they had made in the camp.
The genius of the Michigan backwoods boy for locating places was very marked. And Teddy, who was a little bewildered himself, was glad to be able to fall back on the one who was able to serve as a pilot.
“I notice you saved one thing from the wreck,” remarked Teddy, as they walked steadily forward, hoping to reach the camp, even though exhausted, long before the hour of dawn. “I saw you pick it up on your way out.”
“Well, yes,” chuckled Amos. “It struck me I was entitled to something, to pay up for all the bother they gave me. It is too bad to get away with old Crawley’s fiddle just when he’s gone and learned how to start on the second part of “The Arkansaw Traveler,” after waiting so long. But I was just fiddle hungry, boys, and I felt I must have the thing.”
“Glad of it,” said Teddy.
“That’s right,” added Dolph, enthusiastically; “we can have music every night now after this, and I give you my word, Amos, every time you play I can just shut my eyes and see that crazy old rascal jumping around, snapping his fingers, whistling and acting like he’d just broke out of a lunatic asylum.”
“And I’ll always see her a-settin’ there on that three-legged stool, holdin’ her chin in the hollow of her hand and lookin’ at me with them big blue eyes. Poor Sallie; poor little gal. She’s got a hard row to hoe, pardners,” and Amos sighed heavily.