He had seen him on the street, talking with a man he said was a
detective. Lucy told me just the other day that Uncle Joe took awful
chances on mining stock very often, and that she believed he would sell
his very soul for a gold mine. It seems so strange--he has been angry at
me every time I have let you go into the mountains. He works hard, and I
suppose he thinks you ought to be doing something, too, and if we stay
here through the winter, my boy, I think it would be well for you to look
about for something to do after school."

As Willis left the house the next morning and started for the Association
to complete plans for the trip, he met two men coming in at his front
gate. They asked for Mr. Williams. Willis directed them, then hurried on,
rejoicing in his heart that he was to have a real gipsy trip in the
mountains with his gang.

He spent the day getting his things together for the trip. He was to
carry a small individual frying pan, a small granite bucket, knife, fork,
and spoon, eight small cans of condensed milk, a little cloth sack of
tea, one of sugar, one of oatmeal, and one of rice, two boxes of raisins,
a loaf of rye bread, and butter packed in a small tin can with a cover.
He was to wrap these things, and whatever else he wanted to take along,
including a first-aid packet, in his blanket, army style. His pack must
not exceed twenty pounds in weight, not counting gun or camera. His
tincup was to be fastened to his belt, and his safety ax carried in his
hip-pocket. They would sleep on spruce boughs at night, and each man
would cook his own meals from his own store. The mountain raspberries
were just ripe, and there were great quantities of them. They would have
them with cream, and count on killing a few squirrels now and then, or
perhaps some turtle doves for a change. Mr. Allen took a trout line
and a few flies, in case they had a chance to have mountain trout to