Dave Porter in the Far North: or, The Pluck of an American Schoolboy

"I certainly will, Roger. Don't you remember what I once said? In some respects he is a worse chap than Nick Jasniff and a good deal worse than Gus Plum ever was." And that Dave was correct will be proved in the next volume of this series, to be entitled, "Dave Porter and His Classmates; or, For the Honor of Oak Hall." In that volume we shall meet all our friends again, and also Laura Porter, and learn how Dave met the underhanded work of Link Merwell and what was the result.

On Friday evening following Dave's return to the Wadsworth home he was surprised to receive a visit from Phil, Ben, Sam, and Shadow. They burst into the house like a cyclone and nearly hugged him to death, and then shook hands all around, not forgetting Dave's father, who was quickly introduced.

"We simply couldn't stay away," said Phil. "We stormed Doctor Clay's office and he let us off until Monday morning."

"We want to hear all about your adventures in the far north," added Ben. "How you discovered the North Pole, and shot bears and wolves – "

"And gave Nick Jasniff his set-back," interrupted Sam. "And how you found your father."

"Which puts me in mind of a story," said Shadow. "A fellow once – "

"Hold hard, Shadow!" interrupted Phil. "Dave has the floor this time. Your stories must wait until he's through."

"All right," answered the story-teller of the school, cheerfully. "I'd rather listen to Dave, anyway, for I know he's got something worth telling."

And then all sat down, and Dave told his tale, just as I have related it here. It took until midnight, and when he had finished, all said good-night to each other and went to bed. And here let us say good-night, too.

THE END