The Press., 1912-01-10
His Man Friday He BIunders Into His
 Happiness By CLARISSA MACKIE Copyright by American Press Asso-
 citation, 1911.

Lewis Warren's new bungalow was perched on a pine covered knoll on the
 shore of the lake.
 There were several bungalows about the beautiful little lake. and here and there jutted forth a narrow pier around which clustered gayly painted canoes or brass fitted motorboats ana from June until September the little summer colony fished and boated and bathed and then, suddenly, when the first week in September came the cottages
 would be closed and there would be no sign of life except the little wild animals that came to drink at the waters edge and the birds fitting among the pines.
 Lewis Warren had built the bunga- low for a retreat wherein to spend solitary days that would restore the energy he had lost during busy weeks down in the heart of the big city.
 He went up there in June for brief visit and hastily turned the key in his door and departed-to return again late in September when his neighbors had fitted cityward. On this brilliant morning, when the sky seemed newly washed in blue and the little lake gayly reflected azure heaven and green earth. Lewis took from his Japanese servant a basket of lunch and went down to his own piec The lunch, together with fishing rod and basket, was tossed into the bottom of a canoe, and Lewis step ped in and padded slowly over 10 the island.
 To have q whole month to himself in the most glorious season of the year. when every day is golden and the nights are cool and made for sweet sound sleep. seemed too good to be true, and at last. haunted by the fear that there might be some cottager lurking near by who might suddenly start his photograph blaring into the delicious silence. Lewis started on tour of the island skirting the beach in his walk.
 Then all at once he stopped short and fastened his gaze on the damp sand at the waters edge.
 "Well. I'll be hangedv' he ejaculated in an injured tone. "I had feeling that somebody was around. Can't lose me on that premonition business.
 There under his very nose was i'm pressed a footprint, the mark of small bare foot. evidently that of a boy. and close beside it was another and another and still another of the same feet. Some of the footprints ap- peared to lead straight into the water, and others evidently climbed the sandy slope and were lost among the brown needles that strewed the ground.
 Somebody left those footprints on the sand. and that not so very long ago. suppose the rascal is hiding ill the trees up yonder. 1 may as well fol- low this trail among the spruces."
 The trail was soon lost among the needles. and as there were dozen lit tie paths winding among the spruces 1t was no easy matter to decide which one to follow. Lewis soon tired of hunting for the trespasser and con- cluding that, whoever he was, the boy would probably not disturb him now that his presence had been discovered. the young man returned to his canoe and the neglected fishing.
 He had just landed a shining lake trout when distant splash attracted his attention He turned his canoe and padded around to the southern shore just in time to see a small dark head bobbing above the surface of the water, with now and then the flash of bare foot as the swimmer drew nearer the mainland.
 Lewis chuckled softly to himself. amused at the lads hasty flight. He doesn't know he's my man Friday" he grinned as he padded back once mOre
 The day had been badly broken up by his uneasy wanderings, and now, after his luncheon was disposed of and he had spent an hour with pipe and book. he returned home resolved to come back the next day and enjoy the full measure of lazy day.
 Another glorious day dawned. He made his usual landing. fastening his craft to a weather beaten stake thrust in the sand. Then he carried book and basket around to the sunny southern shore and stretched himself on the sand. The water looked cool and inviting. but swimming was a diversion he had been obliged to forego the past year on account of severe attack of rheumatism, which gripped him cruelty at the first impact of cold water.
 Suddenly there bobbed into his range of vision green canoe, untenanted and idly floating toward the mainland. It was several moments before it oc- cured to him that his own craft might have gone adrift. and when he went to look his fears were verified. The ancient stake had snapped asunder at the water line. and now he could see It floating along in the wake of the canoe.
 No use yelling to Taku. He'd only get excited and tumble in the soup kettle. He can't help me. and l can't help myself. Here I must stay until [ am rescued. and l wouldn't be a bit to see that man Friday! Wish hadn't scared him observes me right"
 Shortly afterward a stone rolling down into the water startled him to sitting posture just Hi ,.llir 10 see a fash of bare feet diS;ippearing among the spruces far down the beach. He followed his impulse and went after the trespasser. Nhen ne reached the spot he could plainly distinguish the little wet footprints leading straight ID into the thicket of Spruces. He halted there at the foot of the embank- ment.
 Hi. there, man Friday!' he called good naturedly.
 There was no reply. Not a sound broke the stiffness.
 Fl saw you that time. my boy. Don't try any game on me. won't hurt you.''
 "H'mr' A voice startled him from he gloom of the t1icket not three yards