s
who worked on them promised a complete job before nightfall.

"And now," said Frank, as they munched a cold lunch at noon, having
decided not to go to the bother of doing any cooking at that time, "I
want Will to come with me to make a little search for that old boat we
were told could be found hidden under a shelving rock near the shore.
It hasn't been used for some years, and is apt to be in poor shape,
but I've got some oakum and a calking tool. With those, I hope to put
it in condition, so with frequent baling we can use it on the lake."

They made a systematic search all along the shore, but it was not
until nearly an hour had passed that they discovered the spot where,
under a shelf of rock, the old craft lay.

After making an examination, Frank declared he could mend the rowboat
so that it would afford them more or less pleasure. Its planks had
survived many a winter, thanks to the protection afforded by the shelf
of rock.

Since the gaps in the open seams were so large that it would leak like
a sieve, he realized his work would have to be done at the spot where
the boat was found. This meant only a tramp of a quarter of a mile at
most, going and coming.

"I'll get busy the first thing in the morning," Frank told Will.
"Altogether, the job oughtn't to take me more than a day. Then we can
all get together and drag the boat down to the water, and one of us
can paddle around to Cabin Point, where there's a splendid cove to tie
up in."

"The oars are good enough for our use, though splintered some,"
suggested the other.

"That will save us a hard job," Frank admitted, "because I don't think
I ever shaped an oar in my life, and it's no little task, believe me!"

In their wanderings the boys had discovered a stream that emptied into
the lake. Frank promised himself the pleasure of following it up some
day, and finding what the country looked like in that direction.

"I've got a notion," he told Will, "that this stream runs through the
property of that old hermit, Aaron Dennison; at least that's what one
man told me. Perhaps he'll take it badly when he learns that a parcel
of boys have squatted down for a month's stay so close to his place."

"I hope we do run across the queer old man some of these fine days,"
ventured Will; "and that I'm carrying my camera along with me, because
I'd like to snap off the picture of a real hermit. I've got some odd
people in my collection, but nothing so queer as that. I su