Some of the visitors stayed overnight, and for these tents were erected. Camp-fire was an especially merry occasion that evening. Very agreeably, the moon came up, big and mellow, at nine and, so to speak, joined the party. The musicians were never better, and the songs were sung with unusual enthusiasm if no more melodiously. Bedtime was set back a full hour on this last night and it was nearly midnight when quiet finally settled over the moonlit camp. The next morning the exodus began and by noon only a half-dozen or so fellows remained to bolt a hurried dinner and then tumble into the waiting coach and disappear, cheering, toward the village. The councillors all remained with Mr. Langham until the next day. Shutters were to be closed and everything made ready for the winter before they left. Supper that evening was a pleasant meal. All were fairly tired, and they sat late about one end of the Chief’s table and comfortably talked over the summer and their plans for winter. There was a little impromptu speech by Mr. Langham, in which he thanked the others for their help. And Mr. Haskins, replying for the councillors, was quite funny in his serious way, and they finally pushed back their chairs in laughter and strolled over to the office feeling very kindly toward each other. Mr. Langham, Mr. Haskins, and Sam travelled southward together the next morning, Mr. Gifford and Steve Brown parting from them at Indian Lake. Sam, with nearly sixty dollars in his pocket, a deep coat of tan over most of his body, and a fine appearance of rugged health, stepped from the train at Amesville at a little after four o’clock into the arms of Tom and Sidney. CHAPTER XX THE MAN IN THE PANAMA “Tom, do you know Mr. John Hall?” Sam, swinging his legs from the counter at Cummings and Wright’s, had to wait a full minute for an answer, for Tom Pollock finished writing an order for football supplies before he raised his head. It was a little before nine o’clock on the morning following Sam’s return to Amesville, and the store was empty of customers. Tom signed “Cummings and Wright Hardware Co., T. Pollock,” blotted the sheet, and pulled an envelope toward him. “John Logan Hall?” asked Tom then, glancing up. “The lawyer, Sam?” “Yes, I think so. What’s he like?” “Sort of tall and thin; clean-shaven; wears a Panama hat about ten years old; lives at the Amesville Club, and has his office in the new building. Why?” “Mr. York wants me to go and see him. They’re great friends. He was visiting Mr. Hall when he saw that game last spring, like I told you. Is he nice?” “John Hall? I guess so. I don’t know him except to speak to. He’s been in here once or twice for golf balls. They say he’s one of the best players at the Country Club. He seems a nice sort, Sam. I don’t believe he’d bite you, anyway.” “N-no,” answered Sam seriously, “but it seems sort of cheeky, doesn’t it? To call on a man you’ve never even seen, I mean.”