"Hello, Doc!" Sandy pushed his cap to the back of his head. "Mart and I, we've started out fer to pay our respects to Wishin' Wilson. Want t' hike along with us?" Ross shrugged his shoulders and sat down on one end of the table, dish-cloth in hand. "Guess I've had hiking enough for one day, McKenzie. Let's see. It's two miles up there, isn't it?" "Yep;" Sandy lounged in and sat down on a box. "And by th' same sign it's two miles back. But, gosh, young man, a matter of four mile ain't nothin' in this country!" He surveyed Ross curiously. "How d'ye travel East? In a push cart?" Ross grinned but flushed. "The trip over from Camp was on rather higher ground than I've ever seen before and it--well--it winded me," frankly. "And this afternoon I've been hoeing out here. So I'm not exactly as fresh as a morning glory to-night." Waymart came inside and looked around. Ross pushed a box in his direction and, after a moment's hesitation and a civil nod in the direction of the bunk, the older McKenzie sat down and pulled his pipe out of his pocket. "Ha, ha!" laughed Sandy. "When you're a few months further away from Pennsylvany you'll forgit that a shack needs a hoe, t' say nothin' of a broom." Then he addressed the bunk without looking toward it. "Uncle Jake, have you seen Wishin'?" "Ja," growled Weimer uncivilly, "dat I have." "How did he look?" smiled Sandy who seemed to enjoy the other's "grouch." "Look?" violently. "Vy, how should he look but shust like himself!" Waymart chuckled, and Sandy was about to reply when footsteps were heard drawing near. Heavy shoes were crunching the stones and pine needles under foot, and voices sounded louder and louder. "Must be Wilson and Jones," said Ross going to the door. The room was lighted by two miner's candlesticks driven into the side logs. One candle was near the door, and the light fell on the genial face of Wishing Wilson, who paused in the doorway to wring Ross's hand and shout his greetings at the other occupants of the room, before stepping in and allowing his young partner to enter. When Ross finally held out his hand to Leslie Jones he knew that he was facing a boy as homesick as himself, rather than "Queen Victory's youngest." Leslie gripped the other's hand as though its owner were a lifelong friend. "How do you make it up here?" he asked in a low tone. "Don't make it yet," responded Ross. "I just got here to-day. Steele came up with me." Then he turned to introduce Leslie to the McKenzies and saw a tableau which puzzled him.