The boy stepped onto the gravel. "Dan said, that day on the river, that brains and nerve are worth more than beef in the service, he muttered. "They better be!" he added thoughtfully, with a glance toward his slender wrists. "'Cause I sure haven't got much beef."
The man evidently had not noted their approach for the strains of Yankee Doodle continued to sound from the scrub. The boy filled his lungs.
"Hello!" he called. Yankee Doodle ceased abruptly. There was a quick movement by the fire and a man stepped from the scrub with a rifle in his hand. Leaving Ick Far to draw up the canoe Connie advanced boldly toward the silent figure. "Hi!" he greeted, casually. "How they coming?"
Halting within a few feet of the other he noted the swift glance with which the man swept his uniform—a glance that strayed past him and rested upon the figure of Ick Far who was walking toward them from the direction of the river. Noted also, that if the sight of the uniform had in any way disconcerted the man he did not show it by so much as the flicker of an eyelash.
"Hello, kid," he smiled, "'pears like you're quite
