e time or other; hasn't he?"

"Not what he's learned out of books and from observation," declared
Dave. "But my goodness! he _is_ absent-minded. Yesterday a couple
of us fellows chopped up a good heap of firewood. We don't have a fancy
stove like you girls, but just an out-of-doors fireplace. After supper
the dear old prof, said he'd wash the dishes, and we dumped all the pots
and pans together and--what do you think?"

"Couldn't think," drawled Frank. "I'm too lazy. Tell us without making
your story so complicated."

"Why, we found he had carried an armful of firewood down to the shore
and was industriously swashing the sticks up and down in the water,
thinking he was washing the supper dishes."

With similar conversation, and merry badinage, the journey around Lake
Honotonka progressed. The shores of the lake, in full summer dress, were
beautiful. There was an awning upon the motor boat, so the rapidly
mounting sun did not trouble the party. But it _was_ hot at
noonday, and through Dave's glasses they could see that the sails on the
mill behind Windmill Farm were still. There wasn't air enough stirring,
even at that height, to keep the arms in motion, and down here on the
water the temperature grew baking.

They ran into a cool cove and went ashore for dinner. Nobody wanted
anything hot, and so, as there was a splendid spring at hand, they made
lemonade and ate sandwiches of potted chicken and hard-boiled eggs which
the boys had been thoughtful enough to bring along. The girls had crisp
salad leaves to go with the chicken, too, and some nice mayonnaise.
Altogether even Tubby was willing to pronounce the "cold bite"
satisfying.

"And I'm no hypocrite," declared the fat youth, earnestly. "When I say a
thing I mean it."

"What _is_ your idea of a hypocrite, Tubby?" demanded Wyn,
laughing.

"A boy who comes to school smiling," replied Tubby, promptly.

After a while a little breeze ruffled the surface of the lake again and
the _Happy Day_ was made ready for departure. They continued then
toward the west, where lay the preserve known as Braisely Park, in which
there were at least a dozen rich men's lodges. They were all in sight
from the lake--at some point, at least. Each beautiful place had a water
privilege, and the landings and boathouses were very picturesque. There
was a whole fleet of craft here, too, ranging in size from a cedar canoe
to a steam yacht. The latter belonged to Dr. Shelton, the man who had