but it didn't do no good. So when he sees me getting the canoe ready, he says: “Well, then, if you're bound to go, I'll tell you the way to do when you get to the village.  Shut the door and blindfold the doctor tight and fast, and make him swear to be silent as the grave, and put a purse full of gold in his hand, and then take and lead him all around the back alleys and everywheres in the dark, and then fetch him here in the canoe, in a roundabout way amongst the islands, and search him and take his chalk away from him, and don't give it back to him till you get him back to the village, or else he will chalk this raft so he can find it again. It's the way they all do.” So I said I would, and left, and Jim was to hide in the woods when he see the doctor coming till he was gone again. CHAPTER XLI. THE doctor was an old man; a very nice, kind-looking old man when I got him up.  I told him me and my brother was over on Spanish Island hunting yesterday afternoon, and camped on a piece of a raft we found, and about midnight he must a kicked his gun in his dreams, for it went off and shot him in the leg, and we wanted him to go over there and fix it and not say nothing about it, nor let anybody know, because we wanted to come home this evening and surprise the folks. “Who is your folks?” he says. “The Phelpses, down yonder.” “Oh,” he says.  And after a minute, he says: “How'd you say he got shot?” “He had a dream,” I says, “and it shot him.” “Singular dream,” he says. So he lit up his lantern, and got his saddle-bags, and we started.  But when he sees the canoe he didn't like the look of her--said she was big enough for one, but didn't look pretty safe for two.  I says: “Oh, you needn't be afeard, sir, she carried the three of us easy enough.” “What three?” “Why, me and Sid, and--and--and _the guns_; that's what I mean.” “Oh,” he says. But he put his foot on the gunnel and rocked her, and shook his head, and said he reckoned he'd look around for a big