es while the other young Indians, one
at a time, stepped out. Those who had landed now bent over, holding
the gunwale gently while Dave, first, and then Dick, stepped to
the float.

"Up with it, braves! Out with it!" cried Dick. The canoe, grasped
by twelve hands, was drawn up on to the float, where its wet hull
lay glistening in the bright July sunlight.

"You never told us you were coming up here!" cried Laura Bentley,
half reproachfully.

"If you're bored at seeing us," proposed Dick, smilingly, "we'll
launch our bark and speed away again."

"Of course we're not bored," protested Belle Meade. "But why
couldn't you tell us you were coming?"

"We weren't sure of it until late Sunday afternoon," Dave assured
her. "Some of us had to do some coaxing at home before we got
permission."

"How did you get that big canoe here?" Clara Marshall asked.

"Don't you see the gasoline engine and the folded white wings
inside the canoe?" asked Tom Reade gravely. "We can use it either
as a canoe or as an airship."

Three or four of the girls, Clara at their head, stepped forward
to look for engine and "wings," then stepped back, laughing.

"You're such a fibber, Tom Reade!" declared Susie Sharp.

"A falsifier?" demanded Tom indignantly. "Nothing like it, Miss
Susie! The worst you can say of me is that I have the imagination
of an inventor."

"Tweedledum and tweedledee!" laughed Clara.

"It does seem good to see you boys up here," Belle went on with
enthusiasm. "How long are you going to stay?"

"In other words, how soon are you going to be rid of us?" asked
Danny Grin.

"Are you speaking for yourself, Mr. Dalzell?" Belle returned tartly.
"I inquired more particularly about the others."

Dan quite enjoyed the laugh on himself, though he replied quickly:

"The others have to go home when I do. They had to promise that
they would do so."

"We have been camping at Lake Pleasant for two days," Dick explained.
"We came up herewith our canoe and camping outfit on Billy Heckler's
wagon. We brought along Harry's bull-dog to watch the camp.
As to how long we'll stay, that depends."

"Depends upon what?" Clara asked.

"On how long our funds hold out," Prescott explained, with a frank
smile. "You see, all our Wall Street investments have turned
out badly."

"I'm truly sorry to hear that young men of your tender age should
have been drawn into the snares of Wall Street," retorted Clara
dryly.

"So, having