“I guess not,” Amos put in, and they knew very well that he was thinking right then of little Sallie, also how she had stood there without flinching, while that half-drunken brute of a father held his fist half raised.
Would any of them forget that picture as long as they lived—Teddy and Dolph felt sure they never could.
In due time they found where the man lived who was willing, for a cash consideration, and a pretty stiff one, to convey the empty canoes and the packs that would embrace all the duffel across the miles of pine woods, to McMillan.
The boys knew how to pack things to good advantage. The canoes were laid on top of all, and upside down, being secured thus so no accident could befall them.
As the sun was shining brightly, of course Dolph could not rest satisfied until he had snapped off a picture of the queer load those horses were expected to haul across the country following a “tote” road made long since by lumbermen.
Sometimes the boys tiring of sitting, and with a view to relieving the horses in the bargain, would drop off and walk.
Noon came and found them still on the way. But the man was now sure they would reach their destination by four o’clock, and so they concluded to stop for an hour, bait the horses and have some refreshments themselves.
Amos built one of his speedy fires, and had that aluminum coffee pot settled in place in an amazingly short time.
After a good rest, the journey was resumed through the pine woods. And sure enough the driver kept his word for it was not much after half past three when they came in sight of the outskirts of McMillan.