He was a young man of middle height, stoutly built, and with
a strong, good-natured face.
"Good evening," he said in a cheery voice, "camped for the night?"
"Yes, camped for the night," replied French.
"I have a tent up stream a little way. I should be glad to have
you camp with me. It is going to be a little chilly."
"Oh, we're all right, aren't we, Kalman?" said French.
The boy turned and gave him a quick look of perfect satisfaction.
"First rate! You bet!"
"The dew is going to be heavy, though," said the stranger,
"and it will be cold before the night is over. I have not much
to offer you, only shelter, but I'd like awfully to have you come.
A visitor is a rare thing here."
"Well," said French, "since you put it that way we'll go,
and I am sure it is very decent of you."
"Not at all. The favour will be to me. My name is Brown."
"And mine is French, Jack French throughout this country,
as perhaps you have heard."
"I have been here only a few days, and have heard very little,"
said Brown.
"And this," continued French, "is Kalman Kalmar, a friend of
mine from Winnipeg, and more remotely from Russia, but now a
good Canadian."
Brown gave each a strong cordial grasp of his hand.
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