the greatest difficulty in framing certain words. Then all of a sudden,
as though taking a grip on himself, Toby would stop short, draw in a
long breath, give a sharp whistle, and strange to say, start talking as
plainly as the next one.

In time perhaps he would conquer this weakness, which after all is only
caused by nervousness, and a desire to rattle out words.

There was a fourth chum also, the Steve spoken of and who had slipped
away with his new steel-jointed bait-rod, and a handful of fat grubs, as
soon as he heard Max say they had gone far enough on their way. Steve,
being one of those hasty lads who do a thing while many people would be
only figuring it out, had long ago fallen heir to a number of suggestive
nicknames, among others "Touch-and-Go Steve," and "Old Lightning."

These four lads were a long ways from their home town of Carson, nestled
on the Evergreen River, and near which we have seen them in the earlier
books of this series successfully carry out numerous of their
undertakings.

In fact they were deep in the wildest part of the famous Adirondacks at
the time we run across them on this particular occasion. There was not a
town within many miles, nor for that matter a regular camp where summer
guests were entertained. The difficulties to be encountered along this
"carry" were so great that ordinary excursionists avoided it severely.
Indeed, few fishermen ever invaded these solitudes, although there were
undoubtedly many places where trout of generous size might be picked up.

All this would make it seem a bit queer that Max and his three chums
should venture into this section of the wilderness without a guide