CHAPTER XXIII.
REWARD RUNS AWAY WITH THE PANORAMA.
There was not the slightest doubt that the canoe, covered by a bit of canvas, which had rested all this time on the upper deck of the _Whatnot_, was the very one whose loss had grieved Winn almost as much as that of the raft itself.

If he had needed proof other than his certain knowledge of the little craft, it was at hand; for, as he pointed out to Billy Brackett, there were his initials, rudely cut with a jack-knife, just inside the gunwale.

How well he remembered carving them, one sunny afternoon, when he and Elta were drifting down the creek! Yes, indeed, it was his canoe fast enough, but how came it there?
There was but one way to obtain an answer, and in another minute Cap'n Cod was being plied with eager questions as to when, where, and how he came into possession of the dugout.
"That canoe ?" he questioned slowly, looking from one to the other, and wondering at their eagerness.

"Why, I bought it off a raft just before leaving Dubuque.

You see, I didn't have any skiff, and didn't feel that I could afford to buy one.