d she could not make an
inch of progress toward our camp.

The chewing gum with which we had repaired our canoe came out at that
time and the boat began to fill, Tish being unable to sit over the leak
and paddle at the same time. So, at last, she gave up and made for the
mainland.

"The shooting," Tish said with difficulty, "was by men from the Indian
camp firing at me. I landed below the camp, and was making my way as
best I could through the woods when they heard me moving. I believe they
thought it was a bear."

I think Tish was more afraid of the Indians, in spite of their
sixty-three steel engravings and the rest of it, than she pretended,
though she said she would have made herself known, but at that moment
she fell over a fallen tree and for fifteen minutes was unable to speak
a word. When at last she rose the excitement was over and they had gone
back to their camp.

"Anyhow," she finished, "the green canoe is hidden a couple of miles
down the river, and I guess Mr. McDonald is safe for a time. Lizzie, you
can take a bath to-morrow safely."

Tish sat up most of the rest of the night composing a letter to the
authorities of the town, telling them of Mr. McDonald and enclosing
careful copies of the incriminating documents she had found.

During the following morning the river was very quiet. Through the
binocular we were able to see Mr. McDonald standing on the shore of his
island and looking intently in our direction, but naturally we paid no
attention to him.

The red-haired man went in swimming that day and necessitated our
retiring to the tent for an hour and a half; but at noon Aggie's
naturally soft heart began to assert itself.

"Spy or no spy," she said to Tish, "we ought to feed him."

"Huh!" was Tish's rejoinder. "There is no sense is wasting good food on
a man whose hours are numbered."

We were surprised, however, to find that Hutchins, who had detested Mr.
McDonald, was rather on Aggie's side.

"The fact that he has but a few more hours," she said to Tish, "is an
excellent reason for making those hours as little wretched as possible."

It was really due to Hutchins, therefore, that Mr. McDonald had a
luncheon. The problem of how to get it to him was a troublesome one, but
Tish solved it with her customary sagacity.

"We can make a raft," she said, "a small one, large enough to hold a
tray. By stopping the launch some yards above the island we can float
his luncheon to him quite safely