ts were quickly to prove.

CHAPTER XIII

THE CABIN ON THE ISLAND

"Dave, come on out for a row. You haven't been on the river this
year."

It was Gus Plum who spoke. He was out in one of the craft belonging to
Oak Hall, and hailed our hero as the latter was strolling along the
river-bank.

"All right, Gus!" Dave cried, cheerily. "I don't know but that a try
at the oars will do me good, after the hard studying I've been
doing."

"You are bound to get a high-water mark this term, aren't you?" went
on Gus Plum, as he brought the rowboat up to the dock, so that Dave
might get in.

"I'd like to graduate with honor, yes."

"What are you going to do after you leave here, Dave?" went on the big
youth, as the two rowed up the river.

"I don't know yet. Have you made up your mind?"

"Oh, I think I'll go into business, but I am not sure."

"You won't try for college?"

"No. You see, I don't make much of a fist at learning, so what's the
use? But I love business--buying and selling things."

The two boys continued at the oars until the vicinity of Oak Hall was
left far behind.

"If we only had a power-boat we might run up to Squirrel Island,"
remarked Gus.

"Perhaps Nat Poole will lend you his motor-boat," suggested our hero,
with a little grin.

"Humph! I'd not ask him," returned the big youth, promptly. "I am done
with Nat Poole. I want to stick to my new friends." And the former
bully of the school fairly beamed on Dave, who had done so much to
make him reform.

"Have you seen the motor-boat this season, Gus?"

"Yes, Nat got it out two days ago. I think he is on the river now."

The boys rowed on, until they came to a bend where there was something
of a cove. As they rounded the point they heard the steady put-put! of
a gasoline engine not far off.

"There is Nat's craft now!" cried our hero, and pointed ahead.

"He's all alone," was Plum's comment. "He can't have many friends
these days, or he'd have some of them along."

"I'd hate to be without friends, Gus, shouldn't you?"

"Yes, indeed! But it's Nat's own fault. If he'd only drop his
important airs and be more sociable, he'd get along all right."

On and on rowed the two students. It was a clear, balmy day, and they
hated to return to the school until it was absolutely necessary.

"Let us row around Smith Island," suggested our hero, mentioning a
small place in the middle of the stream, so named after a farmer who
owned it. It was a