"Our cigar-box account is growing," laughed Owen, when they counted up their savings. "Here is a clean hundred from Mr. Wilbur, and thirty-six dollars besides, and all the wages Mr. Paxton is holding back on us. Dale, we'll be rich before we know it." "Aren't you glad you started to save when I wanted you to, Owen?" "To be sure. But now I've really got to have some new fiddle strings. That E is patched in two places, and the G is getting all unwound. And I've got to have a new pair of boots if I am going down the river on that last drive." "Did Mr. Paxton say he'd let you go with Herrick?" "Yes, if I'd take charge of the boat. Will you go with me?" "Will a duck swim? I know Herrick will let us help when there is a jam, and that's the fun of it," added Dale. The drives had already been started on the river, and pile after pile of logs left the yards, on their long way down river and lakes to the booms and the mills. Other drives from other camps were also coming along, and at times the river presented a scene of unusual activity, quite in contrast to the dreariness of the winter just past. Herrick was one of the old-time "Bangor boys," a log driver as good as the best. He was Yankee to the backbone, tall, thin, and "leathery," with jaws continually working on a quid of tobacco, and eyes that looked one through and through at a glance. He was a "codfish" man too, and insisted on having that dainty for his morning meal with the regularity of the sun's rising. He was usually of a mild temper, but when a jam occurred unexpectedly, his flow of language was terrific, and his sarcasm most biting. But despite this failing, the men loved to work with and under him, and he never lacked for helpers when he wanted them. "Goin' to start the drive sun-up ter-morrer," he announced, after being in camp little short of a week. "All them as is goin' along must hump themselves an' be on hand. An' the feller as thinks log-drivin' is dangerous work or jest play hed better stay to hum." "We'll be on hand," said Andrews. "Who's goin' ter manage the boat?" "I'll take care of the boat," said Owen. "Colette will be with me, and Gilroy says he is going down." "And I am going," put in Dale. Herrick gazed at Dale from head to foot. "So you be a-goin', eh? Do you think it's dangerous or child's fun?" "I don't expect any fun--I expect to work, same as I've been working," replied Dale quietly. "He's all right, Joe," said Andrews. "He's done his full share up here all winter." "Humph! Drivin' aint tree-cuttin', not by a jugful," muttered Herrick; but he made no further objections to having Dale along.