all imagination, but this did not take away his pleasure in
the picture. And when Ranny, lazily shifting his lounging attitude,
leaned carelessly back against the knees of the boy behind him, Dale
thrilled to the touch almost as much as he would have done had he not
felt the other to be quite unconscious of his presence.

The routine of the second morning in camp was much the same as the first
had been. But directly after dinner the fellows piled into boats and
rowed out to where the _Aquita_ was anchored. As many as the power-boat
would hold went aboard, leaving the rest, with a large assortment of
crab-nets, hooks, lines, bait-boxes, and the like, in the trailers.
They made a hilarious bunch as they chugged upstream past the straggling
fishing-village, under the bridge, and on between the low banks of sedge
and tough water-growth that lined the little river. But the noise was
as nothing compared with the racket that began when they anchored and
dispersed for the afternoon sport.

Some took to the boats, others went ashore and fished from the bank,
while a few stayed on the _Aquita_. The tide was out and it was an ideal
spot for crabbing. In fact, the creatures were so plentiful that many of
the boys abandoned the slower, more cautious method of luring them to
the surface with bait, and took to scooping them off the bottom with
nets, to the accompaniment of excited shouts and yells and much splashing
of mud and water. They kept at it for about two hours, and when the
whistle summoned them back to the motor-boat they brought along a catch
big enough to furnish several meals for the entire camp.

The last boat to come in was rowed by Dale Tompkins. Sanson and Bennie
Rhead were with him, besides one or two others; but the interest and
attention of those gathered on and about the _Aquita_ was swiftly
centered on Harry Vedder, perched precariously on the stern seat. His
fat legs were drawn up clumsily under him, his pudgy hands tightly
gripped the sides of the craft, while his plump face was set in lines
expressive of anything but joy.

"What's the matter, Puffy?" called Ranny Phelps, as they approached. "You
look like Humpty Dumpty sitting on a wall!"

Vedder merely sniffed poutingly. The faces of Tompkins and Sanson
expanded in wide grins. "It's the crabs," chuckled the latter. "They're
so fond of him they won't let him alone. You see," he added, his eyes
dancing, "some of 'em happened to get out of the box, and the m