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Updated: June 9, 2025
She looked quite herself when the evening came and Wilbur's face brightened as he looked at her in her trailing blue with a little diamond crescent fastening a tiny blue feather in her golden fluff of hair. "You certainly do look better," he said happily. "I am well, you old goose," said Margaret, fastening her long blue gloves. "You have simply been fussing over nothing as I told you."
Wilbur's reward was not only the shortening of his route, but commendation from Rifle-Eye that he had taken the trouble to find out the route and that he had picked it so well. That night he wrote home as though he had been appointed in charge of all the forests of the world, so proud was he.
These young people were dressed rather less formally than Winona had expected, being mostly in flannels and ducks and tennis shoes not too lately cleaned. She was instantly glad she had been particular as to Wilbur's outfit. He looked ever so much more distinguished than either Merle or his friend. She watched him as he stood unconcerned under the chatter of the three girls.
We hurried back up the river as fast as four strong arms could propel our light boat, and resting, the second night, at Wilbur's, on Raquette Lake, I the next morning selected a site for a camp, where we built a neat little bark-house, proof against all discomforts of an elemental character, and that night I rested under my own roof, squatter though I was.
"Shoot! shoot! shoot!" shouted Moran rapidly. Wilbur's revolver was a self-cocker. He raised it again, drawing hard on the trigger as he did so. It roared and leaped in his hand, and a whiff of burned powder came to his nostrils. Then Wilbur was astonished to hear himself shout at the top of his voice: "Come on now, get into them get into them now, everybody!"
The most that was the trouble with Marion Wilbur was, that she was tired in body and brain. If people only realized it, a great many mental troubles and trials result from overworked bodies and nerves. Still, it must be confessed that there were few, if any, outside influences that were calculated to cheer Marion Wilbur's life. You are to remember how very much alone she was.
"I got a pocket in this dress to hold my money," he suggested. "You might lose it," objected Merle. "I better keep it for us." The girl had transferred her remaining money to the pockets which, as a boy, she now possessed. Then she tried on the cap. But it proved to be the cap of Merle. "No; you must take Wilbur's cap," he said, "because you got his clothes."
"I reckon, son," he said, "there's somethin' you're forgettin'." "What's that?" said Wilbur. "Horses come first," said Rifle-Eye. "It's nigh dinner-time now. Where's the corral?" But Wilbur's spirits were not to be dampened by any check. "Is there a corral?" he said. "How bully! Oh, yes, I remember now Mr. Merritt said there was. Where is it, Rifle-Eye? Say, this is a jim-dandy of a camp!"
In the struggle Miss Wilbur's bag suffered a complete upturn, and her small change was scattered to the four corners of the room. Mrs. Millard stood apart looking on in disdain at the confusion, when again the shop door opened, this time to admit Miss Sarah Leigh who advanced and addressed her, fumbling in her pocket-book meanwhile and not lifting her eyes.
While she was thus deliberating and winding up her husband's affairs, Mr. Parsons, who had been absent from New York at the time of Wilbur's decease, called and bluntly made the announcement that he had bought a house in Benham, was to move there immediately, and was desirous that she should live with him as his companion and housekeeper on liberal pecuniary terms.
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