horus of "Tenting on the Old Camp Ground."

They were a merry lot as they started the old horse homeward, and with
the captive monkey in their midst to keep them company. They had to
maintain a watch on Link, for he was apt to pinch them, snatch anything
he could see, from a watch to a lead pencil, and was as full of his
pranks "as an egg is of meat," as Steve said.

When they arrived home Max hastened to wire Mr. Jenks of their success,
and on the very next train the delighted circus man appeared in Carson,
to claim the valuable runaway, and gladly turned over the two hundred
dollars to the chums.

What that represented to Max and his three mates in paying the expenses
of the next great outing they planned will be told in the next story of
this series, to be called "Afloat on the Flood."

Until we meet again in the pages of that volume we will have to bid the
boys of Carson good-bye for a short time, shake hands with the reader,
and turn down the light.

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[Transcriber's Note: For short books such as "Chums of the Campfire,"
it was common for the publisher to add additional material.
"Mortimer Halleck's Adventure" was chosen to accompany the main
text in this edition.]

V.

MORTIMER HALLECK'S ADVENTURE.

Among the many adventurous incidents of our frontier life in northwest
Iowa, fifteen years ago, I recall one that befell a boy neighbor,
Mortimer Halleck, in which his recklessness came very near causing his
death.

There were five of us boys, who formed a little company of tried friends
and pledged comrades. We hunted, trapped, boated, went skating and
swimming together, and, when the first frame school-house was built, we
occupied the two back seats, on the boys' side.

In our hunts after deer, wolves, badgers, and feathered game, we found
an exhilaration such as I never again expect to experience in the tamer
pursuits of life. We even felt an exultant joy in the fierce buffeting
of the winter blizzards which annually descended upon us from the
plateaus of Dakota.

During the regular season of bird migration, the resounding _golunk_,
_golunk_, of the wild goose, the shrill _klil-la-la_ of the swift and
wary brant, the affectionate _qu-a-a-rr-k_, _quack_ of the Mallard drake
and his mate, with the strange, inimitable cry of the whooping crane,
combined to form a sylvan orchestra, the music of which thrilled us with
more plea