he same time, or
rather when his mule did it for him."

"Who is Binney Gibbs?" asked both Mrs. Caspar and Elta.

"Binney? Why, he is a young fellow, about Winn's age, who went across
the plains with me a year ago. By-the-way, where is Winn? I want to
see the boy. And where is the Major?"

Then, as Mrs. Caspar explained the absence of her husband and son, all
her anxieties returned, so that before she finished her face again wore
a very sober and troubled expression.

"So that is the situation, is it?" remarked the new-comer,
reflectively. "I see that Winn is not behind his age in getting into
scrapes. He reminds me of another young fellow who went campmates with
me on the plains, Glen Matherson--no, Eddy. No; come to think of it,
his name is Elting. Well, any way, he had just such a habit of getting
into all sorts of messes; but he always came out of each one bright and
smiling, right side up with care, and ready for the next."

"He had names enough, whoever he was," said Elta, a little coldly; for
it seemed to her that this flippant young uncle was rather inclined to
disparage her own dear brother. "Yes, he certainly had names to spare;
but if he was half as well able to take care of himself as our Winn is,
no one ever had an excuse for worrying about him."

"No, indeed!" broke in the young man, eagerly; "but I tell you he was--
Why, you just ought to have seen him when--"

"Here comes father!" cried Elta, joyfully, running to throw open the
door as she spoke.

[1] See _Campmates_, by the same Author.

CHAPTER IV.

BILLY BRACKETT STARTS DOWN THE RIVER.

It needed but a glance at Major Caspar's face, as, dripping and weary,
he entered the house, to show that his search for the raft had been
fruitless. His wife's mother-instinct translated his expression at
once, and the quick tears started to her eyes as she exclaimed,

"My boy! What has happened to him?"

"Nothing serious, you may rest assured, my dear," replied the Major.
"I have not seen him; but I have heard of the raft, and there is no
question as to its safety. We reached the mouth of the creek without
discovering a trace of it. Then we went down the river as far as the
Elbow, where we waited in the slack-water to hail up-bound steamboats.
The first had seen nothing of the raft; but the second, one of the
'Diamond Jo' boats, reported that they had seen such a raft--one with
three shanties on it--at daybreak, in the 'Slant Cro