fizzling concoction of vinegar and soda, which he drank. His
rotundity to the contrary notwithstanding, he was ravaged by a
gnawing dyspepsia, and the sight of six eggs eaten as a side dish to
substantials carried consternation to his interior.

So busily engaged was each after his own fashion that nobody
observed the approach of a solitary figure down the highway of the
river. The man appeared tiny around the upper bend, momently
growing larger as he approached. His progress was jerky and on an
uneven zigzag, according as the logs lay, by leaps, short runs,
brief pauses, as a riverman goes. Finally he stepped ashore just
below the camp, stamped his feet vigorously free of water, and
approached the group around the cooking-fire.

No one saw him save the cook, who vouchsafed him a stately and
lugubrious inclination of the head.

The newcomer was a man somewhere about thirty years of age, squarely
built, big of bone, compact in bulk. His face was burly, jolly, and
reddened rather than tanned by long exposure. A pair of twinkling
blue eyes and a humorously quirked mouth redeemed his countenance
from commonplaceness.

He spread his feet apart and surveyed the scene.

"Well, boys," he remarked at last in a rollicking big voice, "I'm
glad to see the situation hasn't spoiled your appetites."

At this they looked up with a spontaneous answering grin. Tom North
laid aside his plate and started to arise.