Adrian had doubts as to the truth of this statement of the islander’s commands. He recalled the words, “as far as you desire.” After all, this was not setting a time limit, and it was perfectly natural that anybody should like company through the wilderness. Why, it would be a wild, adventurous journey! the very sort of which he had dreamed before he had tasted the prosaic routine of the lumber camp. He had his colors and brushes, the birch-bark which served so many forest purposes should be his canvas. They had food, and Pierre, at least, his gun and ammunition--no lad could have protested further. “All right. It will be a lark after my own heart. We can quit as soon as we’re tired of it; and--look here, Mr. Dutton said you were paid to take me to the nearest town. How far is that? How long to get there?” “Oh, I don’t know. Donovan’s nighest. Might go in four days--might a week. Canada’s closer, but you don’t want to go north. South, he said.” “Ye-es. I suppose so. Fact is, I don’t care where I go nor when. I’m in no hurry. As long as the money and food hold out, I’m satisfied.” “Speakin’ of money, I couldn’t afford to waste my time.” Adrian laughed at this sudden change of front. It was Pierre who had proposed the long road, but at the mention of money had remembered prudence. “That’s all right, too. It was of that I was thinking, you greedy fellow. What do guides get here in the woods?” Pierre stepped ashore, carefully beached his canoe, and as carefully considered his reply before he made it. How much did this city lad know? Either at camp or on the island had he heard the just rates of such service? “Well--how much you got?” “I’m asking a question, not you.” “About four dollars, likely.” “Whew! not much. You can get the best of them for two. I’ll give you a dollar a day when we’re resting and one-fifty when we’re traveling.” Adrian was smiling in the darkness at his own sudden thrift. He had taken a leaf out of his comrade’s book, and beyond that, he almost loved his precious earnings, so soon as the thought came of parting with them. He instantly resolved to put aside a ten-dollar piece to take the “mater,” whenever he should see her. The rest he would use, of course, but not waste. He would paint such pictures up here as would make his old artist friends and the critics open their eyes. The very novelty of the material which should embody them would “take.” Already, in imagination, he saw dozens of fascinating “bits” hung on the line at the old Academy, and felt the marvelous sums they brought swelling his pockets to bursting. He’d be the rage, the hit of the next season; and what pride he’d have in sending newspaper notices of himself to Peace Island. How Margot would open her blue eyes, and Angelique toss her hands, and the master slowly admit that there was genius where he had estimated only talent. “There’s such a wide, wide difference in the two!” cried Adrian, aloud. “Hey? What?”