while I had
been at work, I found from the conversation of some of the people that one
of the camps was occupied, and I also discovered in what direction it lay.
Consequently, after I had passed out of the sight of the definite Peter
Sadler, I changed my course, and took a path through the woods which I was
told would lead to this road, and I came here because I might just as well
pass this way as any other, and because, having set out to investigate
camp life, I wished to do so, and I hope I may be allowed to say that
although I have seen but little of it, I like it very much."

"Now, then," said Phil Matlack, walking around the circle and approaching
the stranger, "you said, when you first came here, that you were going to
go, and the time has come when you've got to go."

"Very well," said the other, looking up with a smile; "if I've got there
I'd better stop."

Mr. Archibald and the young men laughed, but Matlack and Martin, who had
now joined him, did not laugh.

"You've barely time enough," said the former, "to get to Sadler's before
it is pitch-dark, and--"

"Excuse me," said the other, "but I am not going back to Sadler's
to-night. I would rather have no bed than split wood for an hour after
dark in order to procure one. I would prefer a couch of dried leaves."

"You come along into the road with this young man and me; I want to talk
to you," said Matlack.

"Now, Matlack," said Mr. Archibald, "don't be cruel."

"I am not," said the guide. "I am the tenderest-hearted person in the
world; but even if you say so, sir, I can't let a stranger stay all night
in a camp that I've got charge of."

"Look here, Matlack," exclaimed Mr. Clyde, "you haven't got charge of our
camp!"

"No, I haven't," said the other.

"Well, then, this person can come over and stay with us. We have a little
tent that we brought to put over the cooking-stove, and he can sleep in
that."

"Very well," said Matlack; "if you take him out of this camp I haven't
anything to say--that is, to-night."

"My dear sir," said the stranger, rising, and approaching Mr. Clyde, "I
accept your offer with pleasure, and thank you most heartily for it. If
you had proffered me the hospitality of a palace, I could not be more
grateful."

"All right," said Clyde; "and I suppose it is time for us to be off, so I
will bid you all good-night. Come along, Arthur. Come along, bishop."

The face of the last-named individual beamed with delight as he heard