“It's time that we organized for dinner,” said he. “I'll be the cook if you'll be the commissary.” “All right,” I answered. “Do not be surprised if you find salt an' pepper in yon farm-house,” he suggested. I went to the house indicated, which was not a stone's-throw from the river-bank, and there a woman gave me all I sought, and, when she had learned my name, added butter and half a loaf of bread and a bit of shortcake. “You are promoted for meritorious conduct,” said the Pearl, on my return. “You are appointed corporal of the guard, and will have nothing to do now but keep the cows out o' camp.” He had built his fire in a grove that flung its shade over a bit of still water. There a number of cattle had gathered, and were gazing at us. Soon a bull came roaring into camp, and stood and pawed the earth and threatened me. I cut him with a beech-rod, and drove him away. “You are promoted for bravery,” said the Pearl of great price; “I appoint you my friend for life.” He gave me his hand, and I looked up at him with amusement. “Do you accept the appointment?” “Yes, sir,” I answered, for I was delighted with my new acquaintance. “Good!” said he, “and I promise, boy, that H. M. Pearl, Esquire, will never bring the blush of shame to your cheek, and I am yours truly, now an' forever--one an' inseparable.” In a moment he added: “I ain't pretty, but I can be decent, you see.” I enjoyed him more than the dinner, and we made a wonderful day of it. After an hour's rest we set out again, and near three o'clock landed at the little village of Mill Pond, some ten miles away. From the shore I could see on a store-front the sign SAM WEATHERBY'S EMPORIUM A man stood on the steps of the emporium looking at us. “Well, Pearl, is that you?” he exclaimed as we drew near. “It's me, but it ain't Pearl,” my friend answered. “How's that?” “Turned over a new leaf. The late H. M. Pearl is now H. M. Pearl, Esquire. This is my friend. His name is--” “Heron,” I said. “Not Cricket Heron?” the stranger asked. I nodded. “Don't you remember coming to my store at Heartsdale one Christmas eve?” “And you said you would keep track of me?” “Yes. I moved down the river long ago, and I've been thinking for a month that I would go and have a talk with you and your mother. I want a clerk, and if you wish to learn a good business I'll take you in.” Well, he showed me through the store, and I was much elated, and told about the child ghost and all the details of my straying that Christmas eve, and showed them my horruck, and Mr. Pearl sat down to study it. . “I shall have to go,” I said, as he reluctantly surrendered the coin; “good-bye.” “Not now,” he answered. “It's a hard pull against the current, an' I'm goin' to take you home. You wouldn't get there till to-morrow mornin.'” Well, he _would_ go with me, and so we set out together--the Pearl having left his dog with Mr. Weatherby. As we made our way upstream he told me tales full of the oddest fancies.