r gurgling close to
them where they can hear it when they are in bed. Then there's an owl to
this camp. The men heard him there when they were making the clearing, and
he's never left the spot. Some people who were out there said they never
felt as much away from the world as they did listening to that little
stream gurgling and that owl hooting."

"I believe," exclaimed Margery, "that in a place like that I could write
poetry!"

"It would give me the rheumatism and the blues," said Mrs. Archibald, upon
which Peter Sadler exclaimed,

"That settles that. Now then, here is another."

Several other camps were considered, but it was the general conclusion
that the one by the lake was the most desirable. It had a good cabin with
three rooms, with plenty of open space, near by, for the tents of the
guides; there was a boat which belonged to the camp, and in every way it
seemed so suitable that Mr. Archibald secured it. He thought the price was
rather high, but as it included guides, provisions, fishing-tackle, and in
fact everything needed, he considered that although it might cost as much
as lodgings in a city hotel, they would get more good out of it.

"Has this camp any name?" asked the enthusiastic Margery, in the course of
the conference.

"That's about your twenty-seventh question, miss," said Peter, "but it's
one I can answer. Yes, it's got a name. It's called Camp Rob."

"Oh!" ejaculated Margery, in a disappointed tone. "What a name!"

"Yes," said Peter, "it isn't much of a name. The first people who went out
there named it that, and it stuck to it, and it's all it's got. Camps are
like horses--we've got to tell them apart, and so we give them names, and
that's Camp Rob."

CHAPTER IV

A CATARACT OF INFORMATION

Peter Sadler would have been glad to have the Archibald party stay at his
hotel for a few days, and Mrs. Archibald would have been perfectly
satisfied to remain there until they were ready to return to their own
house, but her husband and Margery were impatient to be in the woods, and
it was therefore decided to start for the camp the next day. Peter Sadler
was a man of system, and his arrangements were made promptly and rapidly.

"You've got to have a guide," said he, "and another man to help him, and I
think I'll give you Phil Matlack. Phil is an old hand at the business, and
if you don't know what you want, he'll tell you. If you are in Phil's
hands, you needn't be afraid anything will