Theodore Goodridge Roberts

“ A glance showed him that the axe and a spare paddle, which had been lashed under a gunnel, were safe, and that one small box of provisions remained wedged in the stern. After that he salvaged a tent, a roll of blankets, and a coffee-pot.
Dripping, weary, and bruised, Kent returned to where the Dimsdales sat forlornly on two boulders. Mr. Dimsdale still held his rifle in his hand.
"It was a bear," he said. "I'll swear it was a bear!"
"Rather an expensive bear, even if you had bagged him," retorted Kent. "We are fortunate to be no worse off than we are." ”

“ Kent's canoe was large and a good freighter, and Kent had developed the trick of loading her to a science. Now he stowed the heaviest piece of dunnage under the middle bar, lashed tents and a bag of blankets and clothing atop, seated Mr. Dimsdale in the bottom of the canoe aft of this heap of freight and with his back against it, and Miss Dimsdale forward of it. He stowed smaller articles sharp forward and sharp aft, leaving just room enough in the stern for himself to squat to paddle and stand to pole. ”

“ Here Kent unloaded the canoe and lifted it from the water. He pitched the two little tents—he had left his own at Lime Rock—built a fire of drift-wood, and hung the kettle above it, and then took his axe into the woods and chopped green fuel for the night. Having felled and limbed a fair-sized spruce, and chopped it into five-foot lengths, he washed his hands in the river and set about preparing the evening meal. ”

“ The contents of the dunnage-bag had not suffered. He set out the contents of the sole remaining box of provisions.
"It is enough," he said. "We can make the mouth of Porcupine to-morrow, where there is a shack well supplied with grub. We may as well camp here for the night, I think."
"Whatever you say, young man," replied Mr. Dimsdale, "I'm a duffer. I've half a mind to heave this confounded gun into the river. But for you, we'd be in a pretty mess. You saved my daughter's life and most of the outfit."
"Miss Dimsdale would have scrambled ashore without my help," said Kent. ”

“ Kent's manner.
"I'll bring those people in for you," said Kent, without a word about the guide's sufferings. "Tell me what arrangements you have made, for, you see, I intend to take your place throughout the trip. You'll get every dollar of the wages. Your camp on Squaw Lake is stocked, isn't it? And you have an extra canoe somewhere near Third Portage, I think? I have bacon and flour in my camp at the mouth of Porcupine Brook. With three in a canoe we'll not be able to take in much stuff. Is Dimsdale after a moose?" ”

“ It's a two weeks' trip they're figgerin' on, an' Dave don't wanter lose the money. Will ye do it, Mr. Kent?"
Kent looked embarrassed. He was an obliging young man by nature, and it pained him to have to refuse to do anyone a favour; but, on the other hand, he was shy with strangers, and, having once encountered a very unsportsmanlike specimen of "sport" on this very river, he had ever since avoided all fishermen and moose-hunters from the cities.
"But—ah, Mrs. Carson—I'm not a guide, you see, and I don't know these people," he stammered.
"Dimsdale's the gent's name," said the woman quickly. ”

“ Kent looked embarrassed and startled. He had nothing to say.
"I knew that you were not what you pretended to be from the first," she continued, "and Carson let slip the fact that you had promised to hand over all your wages to him. So I saw your game. I am sorry. You do not look like that kind of man. Oh, I know who you are! You are William Kent, the artist. Father does not know."
"Yes, I'm William Kent, the artist, son of John Kent," he answered. "Why didn't you warn your father?"
"There was no need of disturbing his enjoyment of the trip," she replied.
"You are right, Miss Dimsdale. ”

“ It was close upon ten o'clock when Kent ran his canoe ashore at the upper end of the village of Lime Rock. Paddle in hand, he went straight to the little frame hotel, shook hands with the manager, and asked for Mr. Dimsdale.
"They got here last night, and have been lookin' out for Dave Carson since afore breakfast-time," said the manager. "Maybe ye're acquainted with them, Mr. Kent? He's certainly a fine man, is Mr. Dimsdale, an' worth a power of money, I hear; an' Miss Dimsdale is sure a treat for sore eyes. Did ye happen to see anything of Carson on yer way down river?" ”

“ He don't want no money, don't he! In yer eye! He wants the hull of it, an' the girl thrown in. If he gets her, I wouldn't be a mite surprised if he'd pass me over a extra fifty, or maybe a hundred, outer his own pocket. ”