suddenly recalled some words which the squatter had let fall at the beginning of their interview.
"You said you were on your way to the pond to pick out a boat when you met me," said Tom. "Well, why don't you go ahead and get it? There is one among them that will just suit your purpose. It is a canvas canoe. It is very light, and you can pack it across a four mile portage without any trouble at all. If you don't want to do that, you can take it to pieces and carry it in your hand as you would a grip-sack. It will hold up eight hundred pounds, and you can't over-turn it by rocking it from side to side."
"Who belongs to it?" inquired Matt, who had never heard of such a craft before.
"Joe Wayring; and his father is one of the Mount Airy trustees. Your house was on his land, and if Mr. Wayring had said the word, you might have been living happily there now, with plenty to do in the way of boating and guiding and with money in your pocket," said Tom, hoping that this reference to Mr. Wayring and the influence he might have exerted in
