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“Good afternoon, Aunt Grenertsen. How do you do?” He sat down in the chair by the door, where he knew he was expected to sit. Tint following tint each dark'ning object veils, “Gee, if the Greasers struck it would tie us up for fair,” broke in Bob anxiously. “Except for the mechanics, and that bunch of Indians from the reservation, they are about all we’ve got. We would have to shut down, wouldn’t we?”.

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Once back at the dam Bob took his share of the fish he had caught up to Mr. Whitney’s cottage. “Brought you some fish, Chief,” he said. “But I think I’ve hooked a much bigger fish. I met a young chap down the river who seems to be the right stuff for the Service. He’s crazy about it.” He was to be allowed to invite just exactly whom he pleased, especially those who had been kind to him, Mother said. My, oh, my! but that would mean a good many! “You did me a good turn to-day,” he said a little huskily. “Thanks. I—I can’t say things very well but I want to tell you—” In the midst of their mutual congratulations a hail came to them from the bank. Surprised, they looked up to see a figure waving to them. They pulled ashore and found a grizzled old man standing up beside a camp fire..