Dan kept his gaze directed across the bayou, and could scarcely
restrain himself from jumping up and taking to his heels when he saw
a head, covered with a torn and faded hat, raised slowly and
cautiously above the leaning trunk of the sycamore. It remained
motionless for a moment and Dan's eyes were sharp enough to see that
there was a face below the hat--a tanned and weather-beaten face, the
lower portion of which was concealed by thick, bushy whiskers. As Dan
looked his eyes began to dilate, his mouth came open, and the butt of
his rifle was gradually lowered until the muzzle pointed toward the
clouds. He was sure he saw something familiar about the face, but the
sight of it was most unexpected, and so was the sound of the voice
which reached his ears a moment later.

"Dannie!" came the hail, in subdued tones, as if the speaker were
afraid of being overheard by some one besides the boy whom he was
addressing.

"Pap!" cried Dan.

[Illustration: Dan Recognizes his Father.]

As he spoke he arose from his concealment, and the man on the other
side of the bayou--Dan was pretty certain now that it was a
man--stepped out into view, disclosing the well-known form and
features of Godfrey Evans. Dan could hardly believe his eyes, and
even Godfrey seemed a little doubtful.

"Is that you, Dannie?" asked the latter.

"You're just a shoutin'," was the reply.