all matters regarding it in the hands of an agent who resided in the city of Tocono, some fifty miles distant from the tract.

It was this man who had written him, and the contents of his letter had surprised Mr. Somers not a little.

"He writes," said the gentleman, "that he has received an offer which he considers very liberal."

"What is the land like, dad?" asked Bob.

"A rather desolate tract, partly wooded," answered his father. "When I went there, about a year ago, I found that the nearest town, a mere village, is miles away."

"Then why should any one wish to buy it?"

"That is just the question which is interesting me at present," said Mr. Somers, dryly. "Of course the timber may be of value."

"Did Mr. Jenkins state the name of the intending purchaser?" asked Mrs. Somers.

"No! He merely says that owing to the inaccessibility of the land, he might never again receive so good an offer."

"Well, George, I agree with him. Take my advice, and sell it."

But Mr. Somers shook his head.

"No!" he said, slowly. "If it is worth that much to some one else, it is worth the same amount and perhaps more, to me. I shall await further information. It is never well to act hastily in such matters."

But the incident had given Bob Somers an idea, and the more he considered it, the more alluring it seemed. He ventured to confide in Sam Randall, and the latter was so delighted that he turned a few somersaults in the roadway, much to the disapproval of Miss Maria Pringle, in front of whose house they had happened to pause.

That night Bob approached his father on the subject.

"What!" exclaimed Mr. Somers, in astonishment. "You boys take a trip of three hundred miles? Why, the land is situated far from any railroad, you know."

"So much the better," pleaded Bob. "We can have a bully time, and there isn't a particle of doubt about our being able to take care of ourselves. Then, besides, the trip will have an object."

Mr. Somers thought for a moment, and 

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