With Gun > Rod in Canada 



and we would talk it over. In a few minutes he arrived 

 gun, sleeping-bag, and all. During the next half- 

 hour we discussed ways and means, and had a most 

 interesting time. 



We decided to leave Bridgewater that afternoon by 

 train for Caledonia and stay at the Alton House, driving 

 out to camp the next morning. A few days before I had 

 sent a new motor-boat and engine up to the lake to be 

 stored in the boat-house ready for the next hunting 

 or fishing trip. We anticipated great fun cruising 

 around the big Rossignol watershed in this boat, towing 

 a canoe or two with us for side trips up the rivers and into 

 connecting lakes. The boat was equipped with a 

 3i horse-power Gray engine, and I had not yet had an 

 opportunity of trying it out. This engine had been 

 purchased from Mr. Tug Williams, the aforementioned 

 gentleman, an erstwhile inhabitant of Bridgewater. 

 (His real name is withheld for obvious reasons.) The 

 Caledonia train did not leave until 4.40 in the afternoon. 

 Sometime between lunch and train time, Tug heard 

 that I was headed for camp for the purpose of testing 

 the new motor. When friend Emery and I arrived at 

 the station, Tug was waiting on the platform to greet 

 us, valise in hand. I had had no suspicion of his evil 

 intentions. He informed us that he was glad of this 

 opportunity to go up to my camp and " demonstrate 

 the engine." I did not know what to say nor which way 

 to look. In order to give myself a chance to gather my 

 wits, I hastily introduced Tug to Emery and slipped 

 into the station to buy the tickets. Still lacking moral 

 courage to tell Tug he could not go with us, I climbed 

 aboard the train closely followed by the welcome and 

 the unwelcome guests. Tug found some cronies and 

 hobnobbed with them during the two-hour run to 

 Caledonia. 



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