"No more tramping for me to-day," he continued, shaking his head; "I've had good and plenty of it. The rest can wait for another time. Even if I didn't snap off another view all the time I was up here I'd feel it paid me to come; but I've got a few more cards up my sleeve to play. That flashlight business is going to pan out just great, I can see. Now to head for home. I can imagine how the boys' eyes will stare when I tell them what I've been up against, and prove it with that picture." CHAPTER XIII HOW "DADDY" CAME BACK In order to see more of the country Phil took a notion to change his course while heading for the home camp. This turned out to be another of those little things that occasionally happen by accident, but which afterwards seem to have been inspired. He had not been walking along more than ten or twelve minutes before he came to a sudden pause. "What under the sun could that have been," he asked himself, listening intently; "sounded as near like a regular groan as anything could be." Ridiculous as it might seem, Phil even thought of the suffering moose, and wondered whether the distressed animal could have taken shelter in that thick copse, to moan with pain. Then again he heard the strange sound. "It must be some one's lying there, and in pain!" Phil observed, though the idea gave him a thrill of apprehension. He stepped closer, and when for the third time the same type of noise welled out of the bushes he made bold to call: "Who's there? Do you need any help?" There was a rustling sound. Then the bushes parted, and he saw a man's face peering at him. Phil could not remember ever having seen that face before, and yet it struck him that he ought to be able to give a good guess who the other was going to turn out to be. He had Mazie in his mind just then; her "daddy" was the only man known to be around that neighborhood. The other beckoned to him, and as Phil approached he went on to say, in a voice that was half muffled, both with pain and anxiety: "Oh! I'm glad that you've come, boy. My leg is broken, and I've got to the point where I can't seem to drag myself another yard. I'm hungry too, and crazy for a drink of water. But I was just making up my mind I might as well give up, and be done with it; because if she's dead there's no use of my living!" That settled one thing in Phil's mind. The man was Mazie's father. Already the boy could see that he did not have the look of a villain. Pain and want had made deep lines on his face, but somehow Phil believed the other was all right. He could easily imagine what the father must have suffered both in body and mind, with his little daughter lost in that big wilderness, and a broken leg preventing him from searching for her, as he would have wanted to. Evidently he must be relieved in his mind as speedily as possible. "Do you mean Mazie?" Phil asked. The man stared hard at him. Then, as hope struggled into his almost broken heart he burst out with: