and packing next day, a tall, thin, well-dressed
young man walked in with the air of one much at home.

"Good morrow, Peter."

"Good day to ye, sir," and they talked of crops and politics.

Presently Vandam said, "Rolf, come over here."

He came and was presented to the tall man, who was indeed very thin,
and looked little better than an invalid. "This," said Peter, "is Master
Henry van Cortlandt the son of his honour, the governor, and a very
learned barrister. He wants to go on a long hunting trip for his health.
I tell him that likely you are the man he needs."

This was so unexpected that Rolf turned red and gazed on the ground. Van
Cortlandt at once began to clear things by interjecting: "You see, I'm
not strong. I want to live outdoors for three months, where I can have
some hunting and be beyond reach of business. I'll pay you a hundred
dollars for the three months, to cover board and guidance. And providing
I'm well pleased and have good hunting, I'll give you fifty dollars more
when I get back to Albany."

"I'd like much to be your guide," said Rolf, "but I have a partner. I
must find out if he's willing."

"Ye don't mean-that drunken Bill Bymus?"

"No! my hunting partner; he's an Indian." Then, after a pause, he added,
"You wouldn't go in fly-time, would you?"

"No, I want to be in peace. But any time after the first of August."

"I am bound to help Van Trumper with his harvest; that will take most of
August."

As he talked, the young lawyer sized him up and said to himself, "This
is my man."

And before they parted it was agreed that Rolf should come to Albany
with Quonab as soon as he could return in August, to form the camping
party for the governor's son.

Chapter 55. The Rescue of Bill

Bales were ready and the canoe newly gummed three days after
their arrival, but still no sign of Bill. A messengers sent to the
brother-in-law's home reported that he had not been seen for two days.
In spite of the fact that Albany numbered nearly "six thousand living
human souls," a brief search by the docksharps soon revealed the
sinner's retreat. His worst enemy would have pitied him; a red-eyed
wreck; a starved, sick and trembling weakling; conscience-stricken,
for the letter intrusted to him was lost; the cargo stolen--so his
comforters had said--and the raw country lad murdered and thrown out
into the river. What wonder that he should shun the light of day! And
when big Peter with Rolf in the li