. Raften," chirped in Guy, as he stole from his safe
shelter.

"Oh, ye're here, are ye, Guy? Go and git a rope at camp--quick now,"
as the tramp began to move.

As soon as the rope came Raften tied the fellow's arms safely.

"'Pears to me Oi've sane that hand befoore," remarked Raften, as the
three fingers caught his eye.

Yan was now sitting up, gazing about in a dazed way. Raften went over
to his old partner and said: "Caleb, air ye hurrt? It's me--it's Bill
Raften. Air ye hurrt?"

Caleb rolled his eyes and looked around.

Yan came over now and knelt down. "Are you hurt, Mr. Clark?"

He shook his head and pointed to his chest.

"He's got his wind knocked out," Raften explained; "he'll be all right
in a minute or two. Guy, bring some wather."

Yan told his story and Guy supplied an important chapter. He had
returned earlier than expected, and was near to camp, when he heard
the tramp beating Yan. His first impulse to run home to his puny
father was replaced with the wiser one to go for brawny Mr. Raften.

The tramp was now sitting up and grumbling savagely.

"Now, me foine feller," said William. "We'll take ye back to camp for
a little visit before we take ye to the 'Pen.' A year in the cooler
will do ye moore good, Oi'm thinkin', than anny other tratement. Here,
Guy, you take the end av the rope and fetch the feller to camp, while
I help Caleb."

Guy was in his glory. The tramp was forced to go ahead; Guy followed,
jerking the rope and playing Horse, shouting, "Ch'--ch'--ch'--get
up, Horsey," while William helped old Caleb with a gentleness that
recalled a time long ago when Caleb had so helped him after a falling
tree had nearly killed him in the woods.

At camp they found Sam. He was greatly astonished at the procession,
for he knew nothing of the day's events, and fearfully disappointed he
was on learning what he had missed.

Caleb still looked white and sick when they got him to the fire, and
Raften said, "Sam, go home and get your mother to give you a little
brandy."

"You don't need to go so far," said Yan, "for that fellow has a bottle
in his pocket."

"I wouldn't touch a dhrap of annything he has, let alone give it to a
_sick friend_," was William's reply.

So Sam went for the brandy and was back with it in half an hour.

"Here now, Caleb," said William, "drink that now an' ye'll feel
better," and as he offered the cup he felt a little reviving glow of
sympathy for his former comrade.