  Three boys sat on the edge of a huge raft that drifted lazily over the clear, cool surface of Whitefish Lake, near Fort Good Faith. It was a hot day in late summer. Heat waves danced across the water. There wasn’t a speck of a cloud anywhere in sight. Neither was there another craft on the lake. With the exception of the three young sportsmen, no person might have been found within a radius of ten miles, which was fortunate, else it might have been discovered that not one of the trio wore any clothes. Naked as on the day they were born, they sat and dangled their feet in the water. “Mr. MacClaren told me that you were here,” Dick was saying. “I stopped just long enough to have something to eat, then I came right over. I was so anxious to tell you how everything came out.” “How long did you remain at detachment headquarters?” asked Sandy. “Four days,” replied Dick. “It was longer than I should have stayed, but I was anxious to learn what they were intending to do with young Carson. Inspector Cameron gave his case a special hearing the day before I left. You can imagine how pleased I was at the outcome.” “What was the outcome? Let him off with a light sentence, I suppose.” “You couldn’t guess. He’s out on probation. Inspector Cameron would have sent him to Edmonton for trial, along with the rest of them, if it hadn’t been for Corporal Rand. During the hearing Rand proved to everybody’s satisfaction that Reynold hasn’t full control of his mental powers—in a way almost an idiot. He doesn’t fully realize yet what he’s done.” “So they sent him home,” said Sandy. “I took him home.” “Great Scott! How did that happen?” “Inspector Cameron asked me to,” answered Dick. “I couldn’t very well refuse, could I? I didn’t really want to go—but I’m glad now. Sandy—if you could have seen Mr. and Mrs. Carson’s faces when we walked through the door, you’d have felt repaid a million times.” “I can believe that. What did they say?” “I can’t remember all they said. At a time like that, things people say don’t count. It’s what they do and how they feel that really matters. I can’t explain exactly what I mean. But if you’d been there, you’d understand.” “I think I understand now, Dick,” said Sandy softly. “That experience will make a man of him. He’s changed already. And the girl, too. It was a lesson for both of them.” Toma dropped off the raft a moment later, during a lull in the conversation, and swam in widening circles around them. For a short time the two boys watched him, then suddenly, with a little start, Dick seized his trousers and plunged one hand in a pocket. “There! I’d almost forgotten. Here’s a check for both of you from Inspector Cameron. Toma,” he called, “come back!” Toma swam back to the raft, and then Dick told them of his interview with the commandant, not forgetting to mention the letter that had been read to him. “Wish I’d put in my application too,” sighed Sandy. “It isn’t too late yet. Inspector Cameron told me to tell you.” “I’ll write one out this very day,” decided Sandy. Toma regarded his check thoughtfully. “How I spend all this money?” he wanted to know. “A new saddle,” suggested Dick. “Got ’em good one now.” “A rifle then.” “Plenty rifle.” “Tell you what,” impishly advised Sandy, “tell you what, Toma, you can save your money and later on purchase a Chinese chest.” “One that dates back to the Ming dynasty,” Dick elaborated. “Ugh!” said the young Indian. THE END |
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