life and vim into the strokes.
A large, thick-set youth was Harvey, strongly built, with arms bronzed
and sinewy--clearly a youth who had lived much out of doors, and had
developed in sun and air.

Harvey's companion was considerably slighter of build, but of a
well-knit figure, whose muscles, while not so pronounced, played quickly
and easily; and whose whole manner suggested somehow a reserve strength,
and a physique capable of much endurance.

Had they possessed, however, more of that same skill and familiarity
with canoeing which comes only with practice, they would have perceived
more clearly the speed with which they were travelling, and how great a
distance already lay between them and the point where they had embarked.

"Queer we don't come to that inlet," remarked Harvey, at length. "I
haven't seen anything that looked like the land-arks: the two houses,
the road and a bridge, that Tom spoke of."

"No," replied Henry Burns, but added, reflectively, "unless we passed
them at least three-quarters of a mile back. But there wasn't any inlet
there. Hang it! Do you suppose Spencer was right after all?"

"May be," said Harvey. "Let's hit it up a little harder; but watch sharp
for the brook."

"Aye, aye, skipper," said Henry Burns.

But at this moment the glassy surface of the stream dimpled all over
with the sudden fall of raindrops; a compact, heavy cloud wheeled
directly overhead and poured its contents upon them, while, afar off,
the fields were still lit with patches of sunlight. They scrambled as
hastily as they could into their sweaters again.

"Let it come," said Henry Burns, resuming his wet paddle; "it's only a
cloud-bank that's caught us. We'll work out of it if we keep on. Then
the sun will dry us."

They pushed on in the rain, peering eagerly ahead for some signs of the
landmarks that would show them the brook. Then, all at once, to their
amazement, the stream they were following divided into two forks; the
one at the right coming down from higher land, broken in its course, as
far as they could see, by stones and boulders that made it impassable
even for the light canoe; the other branch emerging from a thick tangle
of overhanging alders and willows.

"Well now, what do you make of that?" cried Harvey, in disgust. "That
can't be the brook, to the right, and the other doesn't look as though
it led anywhere in particular." He stopped paddling, and squeezed the
water out of his cap.

"We've com