The more Bob considered his plan with all its great possibilities, the
more eager he became. He found himself calculating the number of pelts
he would secure, and amongst them perhaps a silver fox. He would let
the mail boat doctor sell them for him, and then they would be rich,
and Emily would go to the hospital, and be his merry, laughing little
chum again. How happy they would all be! Bob was young and an
optimist, and no thought of failure entered his head.
It was too late the night they reached home to see Douglas but the
next morning he hurried through his breakfast, which was eaten by
candle-light, and at break of day was off for Kenemish, where Douglas
Campbell lived. He found the old man at home, and, with some fear of
refusal, but still bravely, for he knew the kind-hearted old trapper
would grant the request if he thought it were wise, explained his
plan.
"You're a stalwart lad, Bob," said Douglas, looking at the boy
critically from under his shaggy eyebrows. "An' how old may you be
now? I 'most forgets--young folks grows up so fast."
"Just turned sixteen, sir."
"An' that's a young age for a lad to be so far in th' bush alone. But
you'll be havin' somethin' happen t' you."
"I'll be rare careful, sir, an' you lets me ha' th' trail.
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