"How about our esteemed friend, the squatter?" said Arthur.
"Oh, he can't trouble me," answered Joe, who was already preparing to act upon Roy's suggestion. "His shanty is away off there somewhere, while the perch hole lies a mile or more in the opposite direction. There is a wide and deep river between the two, and how is Matt going to cross it without a boat? I am of Roy's opinion that he was driven away from here long ago."
While Joe was talking in this way he had taken the canvas canoe from his chest, and now under his skillful hands my old friend was fast assuming his usual symmetrical proportions. In less than ten minutes he was floating graceully alongside the skiff.
"Come on, Fly-rod," said he, "and I will show you what a canvas canoe can do when he is managed by some one who understands his business. You never took a ride with me, did you?"
No, I never had, and if the truth must be told, I never wanted to take a second ride with him. He may have been "the boss boat" on
