No doubt it affected his paddling to some extent, for Dick noticed that he dipped deeper, and made more vigorous strokes, than he could ever remember Roger doing. In fact, he was put to his best efforts to counteract the "swing" that these furious efforts on the part of the head paddler gave the boat. Once even Dick's best work could not prevent the dugout from turning partly, so as to expose a side to the wind, and they came very near capsizing. "Careful, Roger! Not so much ginger in your stroke! We'll get there in good time, if only you keep up a steady gait. There are no Indians after us, and the supper horn has not blown yet, that I have heard!" Thus Dick chided his impetuous cousin. After that the other lad, as though himself realizing the folly of allowing his excitement to have such sway over his actions, managed to moderate his speed and they had no more trouble. Besides, the nearer the boat drew to land, the more shelter they obtained from the fact that the shore was covered with trees, which broke the force of the wind, so that presently they were in comparatively calm waters. They ran their boat upon a shelving beach, where it was usually kept when the stage of water permitted. The painter was secured to a stake that had been driven into the ground, after which the two boys climbed the bank, and headed for home. "After you've had a talk with your parents, when supper is done, get them to come over to grandfather's cabin for a grand powwow," said Dick, as he and Roger were about to separate. "That's a good idea," replied the other; "and, if ever I wished for anything in all my life, it's that they may say 'yes.' I'll never be happy unless they do, because it would be a glorious thing if we could find that man, Jasper Williams, and get his signature to the paper that will save our homes." Dick was a boy of few words. He seldom gave expression to his feelings after the more boisterous manner of his cousin, but the hearty grip which he gave Roger's hand at parting was more expressive than words, and the other boy knew that his own sentiments were echoed in the heart of his companion. There were three log cabins not far from each other in the clearing. The middle one of these belonged to Grandfather David Armstrong, the original settler of the place, while, on either side, his two sons, at the time of their marriages, had built homes of a similar type. They had secured a grant of land that embraced many rich acres, and which, when the settlement of St. Louis grew in size, would become more and more valuable. Knowing this fact, then, it can be seen how the prospect of having their land taken away by a defect in the title affected the Armstrongs, young and old. Dick strode straight to his own cabin home. He was carrying with him as many of the fish as he could well manage, and expected to send his younger brother, Sam, back to the boat to get the balance of what they had caught.