"I---I don't understand," faltered Dick Prescott.

"Then see if this will help you to understand," proposed Driggs,
drawing a roll of bills from his pocket and laying down the money.
Here you are, seventy dollars and sixty cents."

"But we didn't propose to sell you any bark," Dick protested.
"All we expected to do was to bring you in good measure to pay
you for all your kindness to us."

"Kindness to you boys?" demanded Driggs, his shrewd eyes twinkling.
"I hope I may go through life being as profitably kind to others.
Boys, the bark you've sold me will enable me to make up several
canoes at a fine, fat profit. Take your pay for the goods you've
delivered!"

Dick glanced at his chums, who looked rather dumbfounded. Then
he picked up the bills with an uneasy feeling.

"Thank you, then," young Prescott continued. "But there is one
little point overlooked, Mr. Driggs. You did the canoe for us
at cost, though your price to any other customer would have been
thirty dollars."

"Oh, we'll let it go at that," Driggs suggested readily. "I'm
coming out finely on the deal."

"We won't let it go at that, if you please, sir," Dick Prescott
retorted firmly.