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.
"You can't think," he said, "how glad I am to see you." "Is there a trail ?" asked French.
"Yes, a trail of a sort.

Follow the winding of the river and you will come to my camp at the next bend.

You can't miss it.

I'll go up in the canoe and come down to meet you." "Don't trouble," said French; "we know our way about this country." Following a faint trail for a quarter of a mile through the bluffs, they came upon an open space on the river bank similar to the one they had left, in the midst of which stood Brown's tent.