“What shall we do to-day?” exclaimed George when breakfast was over.

“We might go fishing,” suggested Fred. “I want a big trout some time this summer, you know.”

“Oh, it’s too sunny for trout to-day,” Grant objected.

“All right then,” said Fred. “What do you want to do?”

“How about taking a sail?”

“Is there enough wind?”

“Of course there is, and unless I’m very much mistaken its going to get stronger all the time.”

“Suppose we take our lunch along,” said John. “We can be gone as long as we want then and can go ashore and eat wherever we happen to be.”

“Good idea, String,” cried George heartily. “I do believe you’re getting smarter every day.”

“What do you think of my scheme?” demanded John, completely ignoring his friend’s sarcasm.

“It’s all right,” said Grant. “I’m in favor of doing it.”

“We can take a couple of rods with us, can’t we?” said Fred. “We might get a few fish for dinner.”

“That’s right,” agreed Grant. “We can anchor and fish from the boat if we want.”

“Let’s get started,” exclaimed John.

A small catboat was a part of the equipment the boys had in order to help them enjoy their summer more thoroughly. It now lay at anchor in a little cove a short distance from the place where the tent was located. It was a natural harbor and afforded excellent shelter for the boats from the squalls and not infrequent storms that were apt to spring up during this season of the year. The lake was between two and three miles in length so that a comparatively heavy sea could be stirred up by the winds.

The island on which the four boys had pitched their tent was the only one in the lake and it was very nearly in the center. It was owned by a friend of John’s father who had obtained permission for his son and his three friends to camp on it that summer. The sailboat and two canoes were included with the island, so that there was no question but that these four boys were very fortunate indeed to be able to enjoy it all.

For months they had been looking forward to this summer and they had planned innumerable excursions and expeditions as part of their camping experiences. Now that the time was really at hand they meant to enjoy every minute of it to the utmost.

“Fred and I will get the boat ready,” exclaimed John. “You two can collect the rods and fix up the lunch.”

“Put me near the food and I’m satisfied,” said George. “Come on, Grant.”

John and Fred made their way down to the spot where the canoes were hauled up on the shore. The catboat lay moored at anchor some fifty or sixty feet out from the bank so that it was necessary to paddle to reach her. One of the canoes was selected and the two boys soon pushed off from shore.

“That’s a pretty good looking boat I should say,” remarked Fred as he glanced approvingly at the little white catboat. “I wonder if she’s fast.”

“She looks so,” said John.

“You can’t always tell by the looks though, you know.”

“That’s true too. We ought to be able to tell pretty soon though.”

“I wonder if they have water sports or anything like that up here in the summer,” said Fred. “If they do it would be fun to enter.”

“It certainly would,” agreed John. “I don’t believe there are enough people on this lake though. As far as I can see we are about the only people here.”

“I thought you said there was another camp down at the north end of the lake.”

“That’s right, there is. I don’t know who’s in it though.”

“We might sail down and find out.”

“Let’s do that; it won’t take long.”

They had now arrived alongside the catboat, which was named the Balsam, and after having made fast the canoe, they quickly climbed on board.

“Any water in her?” exclaimed John.

“I don’t know. I was just going to look.”

“Lift up the flooring there and you can tell. It must have rained since she’s been out here and we’ll probably have to use the pump.”

“We certainly shall,” said Fred, who had raised up the flooring according to John’s suggestion. “Where is the pump anyway?”

“Up there under the deck. You can pump while I get the cover off the sail here and get things in shape a little, or would you rather have me pump?”

“No, I’ll do it. If I get tired, I’ll let you know.”

It did not take long to bail out the boat, however, and before many moments had elapsed the mainsail was hoisted and the Balsam was ready to weigh her anchor and start. The sail flapped idly in the breeze which seemed to be dying down instead of freshening as Grant had predicted. The boom swung back and forth, the pulleys rattling violently as the sheet dragged them first to one side and then the other.

John and Fred sat on the bottom of the boat and waited for their companions to appear with the luncheon. The two boys were dressed in bathing jerseys and white duck trousers. At least they had formerly been white, but constant contact with boats and rocks had colored them considerably. The feet of the young campers were bare, they having removed the moccasins which they usually wore. The day was warm and in fact the sun was quite hot. The previous night had been so cool it did not seem possible that it could be followed by a warm day, but such is often the case in the Adirondacks.

“Where do you suppose they are?” exclaimed Fred at length. “It seems to me they ought to have been ready by this time.”

“Here they come now,” said John. “Look at Pop; that basket is almost as heavy as he is.”

“He’s got lots of food in it, I guess. I’m glad too for I’m hungry already.”

“Why, you finished breakfast only about an hour ago.”

“I can’t help that. I’m always hungry in this place.”

“Ahoy there!” shouted George from the shore. “Come in and get us.”

“The other canoe doesn’t leak you know,” replied John, neither he nor Fred making any move to do as George had asked.

“We know that,” called George. “What’s the use of taking them both out there though?”

“Why not?” demanded John. “The exercise will do you good.”

“Are you coming after us?” asked Grant.

“Not that we know,” laughed Fred.

“I guess we paddle ourselves then, Pop,” said Grant to his companion.

“All right,” agreed George. “I’ll get square with them though.”

“How are you going to do it?”

“You let me paddle and I’ll show you.”

They spoke in a low tone of voice so that their friends on board the Balsam could not hear them and in silence they embarked upon the second canoe. Grant sat in the bow while George wielded the paddle in the stern. They approached the catboat rapidly where John and Fred sat waiting for them with broad grins upon their faces.

“You must think we run a ferry,” exclaimed Fred as the canoe drew near.

“Not at all,” said Grant. “We just thought that perhaps you’d be glad to do a good turn for us.”

“We’re tired,” grinned John. “Think how hard we had to work to get the sail up and to pump out—”

“Oh, look at that water bug,” cried George suddenly, striking at some object in the water with his paddle. Whether he hit or even saw any bug or not will always remain a mystery. One thing is sure, however, and that is, that a great sheet of water shot up from under the blade of the paddle and completely drenched both John and Fred.

“What are you trying to do?” demanded Fred angrily.

“He did that on purpose,” exclaimed John. “Soak him, Fred.”

“Look out,” cried George, “you’ll get the lunch all wet.”

“You meant to wet us,” Fred insisted.

“Why, Fred,” said George innocently; “I just tried to hit that water bug. How should I know that you would be splashed?”

“Huh,” snorted John. “Just look at me.”

“That’s too bad,” said George with a perfectly straight face. “If you had come in after us we’d have all been in the same canoe and you probably wouldn’t have gotten wet.”

“You admit you did it on purpose then?”

“I don’t at all. I just thought perhaps it was some sort of punishment inflicted on you for being so lazy.”

“Didn’t he do it on purpose, Grant?” demanded Fred.

“I don’t know,” replied Grant, striving desperately to keep from smiling. “I know he didn’t tell me he was going to do it.”

“Well, it was just like him anyway,” said John. “He knew we couldn’t splash him back because he had the lunch in the canoe with him.”

“Take it, will you?” asked Grant, holding the basket up to John. “Here are the fishing rods too.”

George and Grant followed soon after and the second canoe was made fast to one of the thwarts of the other.

“I’ll put the lunch up here,” said Fred, at the same time depositing the basket up forward under the protection of the deck.

“Slide the rods in there too, will you?” exclaimed George. “Look out for the reels that they don’t get caught under anything.”

“Everything ready?” asked John.

“Let ‘er go,” cried George enthusiastically. “I’m ready.”

“Come and help me pull up the anchor then,” said John.

“I’m your man,” cried George. “You know I’m always looking for work.”

“I’ve noticed that,” laughed Grant. “You’re always looking for work so that you’ll know what places to keep away from.”

Four light hearted young campers were now on board the Balsam. In spite of their words a few moments before not one of them had lost his temper. They knew each other too well and were far too sensible not to be able to take a joke. Outsiders, listening to their conversation, might have thought them angry at times, but such was never the case.

“Get your back in it there,” shouted Grant gayly to John and George who were busily engaged in hauling in the anchor chain. George stood close to the bow with John directly behind him as hand-over-hand they pulled in the wet, cold chain.

“This deck is getting slippery,” exclaimed George. “All this water that has splashed up here from the chain has made it so I can scarcely keep my feet.”

“I should say so,” agreed John earnestly and as he spoke one foot slid out from beneath him. He lurched heavily against his companion, and George thrown completely off his balance, waved his arms violently about his head in an effort to save himself, but all to no avail. He fell backward and striking the water with a great splash disappeared from sight.