“The biggest mistake we made,” declared Teddy, as, having finished supper, they sat around, helping Amos clean up, “was about Amos here.”
Dolph looked up quickly, a puzzled expression on his face; and even the woods boy smiled as he waited to hear the other explain; though he knew only too well that Teddy Overton was too fond of him to say anything mean.
“How was that?” Dolph asked.
“Why, I should never have thought of allowing Amos to come along without his fiddle, as he calls his violin,” the lumberman’s son said. “He thought it might be in the way in the canoe; but I know he misses it terribly. I’ve seen him sigh when he sits there, looking into the fire; and every time I’ve known what was on his mind. He found his fingers just fairly itching to hold that bow of his, and work it across the strings.”
“Why, I didn’t know Amos played the violin,” remarked Dolph, looking interested.
“Well, he doesn’t—only the fiddle. They’d laugh to have a fit if you called it anything but that in a logging camp. And Amos used to be the most popular boy all through the winter, when the men were out in the snow woods cutting timber. He had to play for them every single night. They never seemed to get tired of hearing Money Musk, Arkansaw Traveler, and all those old pieces. And I tell you, Amos can just make his fiddle talk. He had it along when we spent several weeks in these pine woods before; and night after night we used to have a regular musicale by the light of the fire. Why, I’ve seen the little chipmunks come stealing along, with their ears cocked up, as though they were taking it all in; and one night a raccoon fell off the branch of a tree, nearly on top of Amos. I always said that the music had made him dizzy, it was so sweet. But there, let’s drop that subject. It makes Amos homesick, I guess, to remember how he won’t be able to touch a fiddle again for a whole month.”
An hour later, and the three boys were taking things easy. The storm clouds did not seem to have crept up any farther that they could see, and as yet it was a question no one could decide, as to whether they would be visited by a storm during the night, or not.
Amos has been getting another armful of wood to throw down near the fire, so they would have plenty, if it was thought advisable to keep the blaze going, for frequently these Michigan summer nights feel pretty cool around about two o’clock; and it is nice, if one comes out to take a look at the weather, to see a cheery fire going.
With the wood still in his arms, the lumber camp boy bent his head in passing the others; and in a low but very distinct voice uttered a few sentences that gave both Teddy and Dolph a thrill:
“Don’t jump, or show any signs of excitement, either of you,” was what Amos said in a whisper, “but there’s a man hiding behind those bushes just above our boats; I saw him duck down as I came nearer; but I never let on the least bit that I’d glimpsed him. Better just change your sets a little, so as to be nearer your guns, boys. And when you’re ready, Teddy, give the word, so I c’n grab up mine. I don’t like the looks of things, that’s what.”