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Andy felt that he had found some of the best friends in the world, and was a full-fledged acrobat at last as he left the circus tent. "Hi! Hello stop, stop." "Oh, it's you, Luke Belding?" Andy, passing through the circus grounds, turned at an eager hail. The owner of the chicken that walked backwards came running after him. He caught Andy's arm and smiled genially into his face.
The team saw them, and with a howl rushed forward to the attack. "Wolves!" yelled Andy. "They's wolves!" The wolves were free. The dogs were bound by harness, and thus fettered were no match for the big, wild creatures. Andy's rifle was lashed upon the komatik. It was out of the question to free it in the moment before the wolves were upon them, and it was to be a hand-to-hand fight.
To these imaginary evils was added the reality of some enormous water-rats that issued from an adjacent pool and began to eat Andy's hat and shoes, which had fallen off in his struggle with his captors; and all Andy's warning ejaculations could not make the vermin abstain from his shoes and his hat, which, to judge from their eager eating, could not stay their stomachs long, so that Andy, as he looked on at the rapid demolition, began to dread that they might transfer their favours from his attire to himself, until the tramp of approaching horses relieved his anxiety, and in a few minutes two horsemen stood before him they were Father Phil and Squire Egan.
"The old boy's had a tough time, Miss Molly," said Dodo, struggling hard to keep his voice from breaking. "He had one of those infernal sinking spells about ten this morning. It was his heart, they say. It's been something awful, just a fight to keep him alive. But he's come through it. The doctor from Exmoor came over to help Andy's father."
Now one of the open-eared people who had caught hold of the story by this end happened to meet Andy's mother, and, with a congratulatory grin, began with "The top o' the mornin' to you, Mrs. Rooney, and sure I wish you joy." "Och hone, and for why, dear?" answered Mrs. Rooney, "sure, it's nothin' but trouble and care I have, poor and in want, like me." "But sure you'll never be in want any more."
An' I jest cain't help laughin', honey. I jest natchally cain't! Yo' look so mortally distressed, dat's what yo' does!" Andy's rage might have been dangerous, but the very excess of it rendered him incapable of doing anything.
It was strange how Andy's great, warm heart went out toward Ethelyn after that.
The few rows of bricks set above its line gleamed red and white in the sun. "You won't get that done to-night." The tone was not acrid. It was almost sympathetic for Andy. Uncle William glanced at it placidly. "I reckon I shall. There's a moon, you know. And this is a pleasant place to set. It ought to be quite nice up here by moonlight." He set and watched Andy's figure down the road.
"I told you I'd get even with you! Come on, now, dad, we'll get right to work digging for gold!" Tom and his companions did not know what to say. There was a sneering look on Andy's face, and Mr. Foger, too, seemed delighted at having reached the valley of gold almost as soon as had our friends. Tom and the others looked at the means by which the bully had arrived.
Andy's bugle briskly announced the last morning of the Boy Scouts' camp on Topsail Island. Already the first breath of autumn had begun to tint the leaves of the earlier fading trees, and the chill of the early dawn was noticeable. During their stay in camp the lads had profited in every way.
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