"I'll be glad
when it's finished," he said reflectively; "I don't believe I
need it now. I wish sometimes I could run short of it all."
That was what Rolf had been hoping for. Without such a remark,
he would not have dared do as he did. He threw the tent cover
over the canoe amidships, causing the unstable craft to cant:
"That won't do," he remarked, and took out several articles,
including the medicine chest, put them ashore under the bushes,
and, when he replaced them, contrived that the medicine should be
forgotten.
Next morning Van Cortlandt, rising to prepare his calomel, got a
shock to find it not.
"It strikes me," says Rolf, "the last time I saw that, it was on
the bank when we trimmed the canoe." Yes, there could be no doubt
of it. Van must live his life in utter druglessness for a time.
It gave him somewhat of a scare, much like that a young swimmer
gets when he finds he has drifted awav from his floats; and, like
that same beginner, it braced him to help himself. So Van found
that he could swim without corks.
They made a rapid journey down, and in a week they were back with
the load.
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