ledge
my life that you are no deception this time, but--but I'm so used to it
now that--"

"Shank, my dear boy," said Charlie, finding words at last, "it _is_ no
deception--"

He stopped abruptly; for the intense look of eager anxiety, doubt, and
hope in the thin expressive face alarmed him.

"Charlie!" gasped, rather than said, the invalid, "you--you never
_spoke_ to me before in my dreams, and--you never _touched_--the grip of
your strong h--O God! _can_ it be true?"

At this point Buck Tom suddenly left off his occupation at the fire and
went out of the cave.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

LOST AND FOUND.

"Try to be calm, Shank," said Charlie, in a soothing tone, as he kneeled
beside the shadow that had once been his sturdy chum, and put an arm on
his shoulder. "It is indeed myself _this_ time. I have come all the
way from England to seek you, for we heard, through Ritson, that you
were ill and lost in these wilds, and now, through God's mercy, I have
found you."

While Charlie Brooke was speaking, the poor invalid was breathing hard
and gazing at him, as if to make quite sure it was all true.

"Yes," he said at last, unable to raise his voice above a hoarse
whisper, "lost--and--and--found! Charlie, my friend--my chum--my--"

He could say no more, but, laying his head like a little child on the
broad bosom of his rescuer, he burst into a passionate flood of tears.

Albeit strong of will, and not by any means given to the melting mood,
our hero was unable for a minute or two to make free use of his voice.

"Come, now, Shank, old man, you mustn't give way like that. You
wouldn't, you know, if you had not been terribly reduced by illness--"

"Yes, I would! yes, I would!" interrupted the sick man, almost
passionately; "I'd howl, I'd roar, I'd blubber like a very idiot, I'd do
any mortal thing, if the doing of it would only make you understand how
I appreciate your great kindness in coming out here to save me."

"Oh no, you wouldn't," said Charlie, affecting an easy off-hand tone,
which he was far from feeling; "you wouldn't do anything to please me."

"What d'ye mean?" asked Shank, with a look of surprise.

"Well, I mean," returned the other, gently, "that you won't even do such
a trifle as to lie down and keep quiet to please me."

A smile lighted up the emaciated features of the sick man, as he
promptly lay back at full length and shut his eyes.

"There, Charlie," he said, "I'll behave, and let you d