to the wilderness of the great Northwest, in search of big game.

Reaching the clubhouse, they quickly stowed their boats away. From this
time on there would probably be scant time for aquatic sports. The
tremendous undertaking they had in view would, very likely, occupy all
their spare moments.

"Now let's have that letter, Frank. We want to con it so that every word
will be photographed on our brains from this time on. Didn't old Jesse
say that Martin Mabie was a big stockman now, and had really quit being
a guide and hunter? Then it's mighty kind of him to undertake to convoy
a raft of tenderfeet into the wilderness. Money didn't enter into it,
that's sure," said Bluff.

"He mentions having had a long letter from Jesse," remarked Frank.

"That settles it, then. Our good old friend has been telling him
everything we ever did, and got him interested. We must make it a point
to run up and see Jesse before we go, and thank him."

"You're right about that, Jerry," said Frank warmly. "I was thinking the
same, myself. But here's the letter. Read it for yourselves."

Various were the comments after this had been done.

"Talk to me about your good fellows! That Martin Mabie stands in a class
of his own," observed Jerry. "Think of him offering to take us into the
mountains for weeks, and see that we have the time of our lives! And he
warns us not to mention the word money to him unless we want to break up
the game. I sure am anxious to shake hands with that same friend of old