Without lessening their vigilance the boys paddled on against the increasing current. When the mill was very near Ned signaled the others to join him.

They quickly crossed to the right shore, and the three canoes were run into a quiet little nook close to the swirling mouth of the race. The mill was twenty yards above, and a little to the right of it a cozy frame house, overgrown with trailing vines, peeped above the willow trees.

"I thought we had better stop here on account of the swift water," said Ned. "We will go up to the dam on foot, and take a look at the deep holes under the breastwork."

Before Clay or Randy could reply a man came briskly through the trees—the miller beyond a doubt, for his clothes and hat were white with flour. He greeted the boys with a smile and a cherry nod.

"I guess you're the chaps I was just starting out to find," he said. "T'other young chap was getting anxious about you, and not much wonder. He feared you were all drowned, and I guess you thought the same about him. It was lucky I run across him this morning. You see I went down to the creek at daybreak to look for a stray cow, and when—"

"Did you find a boy called Nugget?" interrupted Ned in great excitement.

"And a green and white canoe called the Imp?" shouted Randy, as he tossed his cap into the air.

"That's about the way of it," responded the miller. "But come up to the house and see for yourselves. You look as if you were nearly starved."

The boys needed no second invitation. With eager steps and light hearts they followed their guide through the trees, and across the little garden to the rear of the house.

The miller threw open the door, and they rushed in with cries of delight. There sat Nugget at the kitchen table, making a fierce onslaught on ham and fried potatoes. He was rigged out in a suit of clothes three times too big for him, and his brown uniform was drying before the fire.

The boys were so glad to see him that they first laughed and then cried almost, while the miller and his wife looked on in wonder.

Nugget took things very coolly.

"Where did you fellows spend the night?" he asked, after the first greetings were over.

"Where did you spend it?" exclaimed Ned. "You gave us a pretty scare, Nugget. We never expected to see you again."

"Let him spin his yarn while you're eating breakfast," interrupted the miller. "Lizzie, set three more plates out."

A moment later the boys were attacking the food with keen appetites, and as Nugget was now through, he proceeded to relate his adventures.

"When the wind came up and separated us," he began, "I got pretty badly scared. I was afraid it would rain hard, so I took out my canvass apron and buttoned it over the cockpit, close up to my waist."

"Good for you!" said Ned. "If I'm not mistaken that was what saved you."

"Perhaps it was," resumed Nugget. "I paddled on for a little while, trying to find you fellows. All at once I heard an awful roar, and the canoe made a jump as though it was going to stand on end. I gave one yell, and the next thing I knew big waves were jumping all around me."

He paused to shiver at the recollection.

"And what then?" asked Randy breathlessly.

"Then I was more scared than ever," continued Nugget in a reluctant voice. "So I crawled under the apron and snuggled up in the cockpit. There was plenty of room, and the cushion made a nice soft pillow, and—and—I fell asleep."

"Fell asleep!" ejaculated Ned in amazement. "You don't mean it?"

"Why, yes," said Nugget. "I was awfully tired, you know, and I couldn't keep my eyes open. The next thing I remember is that man there helping me out. It was daylight, and the canoe was in a little channel with thick bushes all around."

The boys were not slow to appreciate the ludicrous side of Nugget's adventure, and they laughed long and heartily.

Then the miller told how he found the canoe in a stretch of back water that ran a few yards in from the creek, and how surprised he was when he pulled the apron off the cockpit and saw Nugget fast asleep.

"I noticed that inlet," said Ned, "but I didn't see anything of the canoe."

"Because I pulled it out in the bushes," replied the miller. "The current has a natural drift toward the place, and clogs it up with rubbish sometimes. The lad had a narrow squeeze of it when he went through that hole in the dam. I intend to fix it as soon as the water goes down a little."

"I don't want to go through any more such places," said Nugget. "I suppose that apron was what kept the water out. I shipped a little bit, though I didn't know it until this morning, when I found my clothes all wet. My extra suit is in your canoe, Randy. I had dry shirts, though. Say, wouldn't I look nice marching down Fifth Avenue in this rig?"

The boys laughed at the idea, and then drew their chairs away from the table, and chatted for half an hour with the miller, relating all that had happened on the previous night, and telling him of their proposed trip to the Susquehanna. He, in turn, gave them much interesting information about the creek, where to camp and where to fish.

Ten o'clock came before any one realized it, and the boys prepared to depart, in spite of their host's earnest invitation to stay for a day or two. Nugget changed his clothes, and started for the inlet with the miller, while the others embarked in their canoes, after thanking the miller's wife for her hospitality.

The inlet was half a mile down the creek. The boys reached there first, and were joined by the others two or three minutes later.

Fortunately Nugget's paddle was not lost. He had found it stranded along the shore while on his way to the mill that morning.

The boys lingered a moment to shake hands with their kind hearted friend, and thank him for his services.

"That's all right," said the miller, "only too glad to oblige you. Be sure and stop when you pass here again. My name is John Kling."

"We'll spend a week with you next time," returned Ned, as he grasped his paddle.

"Please have the dam mended before then," drawled Nugget.

The miller laughed and waved his hand, and amid a chorus of "good-byes" the Jolly Rovers paddled away from shore. The shadow of misfortune was forgotten, and the future was full of bright anticipations, as before.

The birds sang among the leaves, the fish leaped in the ripples, and the sunlight danced on the blue water.

The little island, where the boys had spent such a wretched night, was soon far behind, and they entered upon a more beautiful stretch of country than they had yet seen. The water was very sluggish, and on each side were great hills densely covered with pine and spruce trees.

The temptations to stop were so frequent that by mid-afternoon the boys were scarcely five miles from the mill—that is to say by water. It was probably less than half that distance in a straight line.

"I'm really hungry again in spite of that big breakfast," said Clay. "Can't we stop and have lunch?"

"I second that," cried Randy.

The others were of the same mind, and as a very pretty spot happened to come within view about that time, they paddled across to it and landed.

Closer inspection only added to the charms of the place.

It lay on the right shore, at the mouth of a deep, dark ravine. A beach of smooth pebbles sloped back to a grassy bank three or four feet high, and on the plateau above were a dozen or more massive girthed pine trees, whose fragrant needles carpeted the ground. A fair sized brook gurgled through the center over a bed of mossy stones, and emptied into the creek.

"We might travel a good many miles and not find such a place as this," said Ned. "Suppose we stay here for a day or two. Tomorrow is Sunday and we would have to stop then anyhow."

This suggestion was adopted without a dissenting word and the boys became enthusiastic over the prospect. Randy wanted to begin fishing at once, while Nugget proposed an exploration of the ravine. A few sensible words from Ned cooled their ardor, and they started in with a will to arrange the camp.

The tent was staked in a carefully selected spot, and then the canoes were unloaded and placed on the beach in a row, bottom up, so what little water was in them might drain out.

While Nugget and Clay carried the provisions and other articles up to the tent, Ned and Randy washed the dirty dishes of the night before. Then the blankets were put to air on a stout line stretched between two trees, and a great heap of firewood was collected.

"That's all for the present," said Ned, as he finished tying the pennant to the front tent pole. "You can do a little fishing now if you want to. Don't venture far away from the camp, because I'm going up the ravine to look for a farmhouse."

Randy declared that he was tired and would rather stay by the tent, so Nugget and Clay prepared their rods and went down the creek a short distance to a jutting point of rock. With a diminutive hook they caught a couple of minnows, which they used for bait.

For a long time their patience was unrewarded, but finally Nugget had a strike, and after a severe struggle he landed a fine bass that could not have weighed less than a pound. Clay caught a smaller one, and after that the fish stopped biting.

At sundown they put up their rods and went back to camp. Ned had just returned, bringing with him a pair of dressed chickens and a pail of milk.

"These will make us a good dinner to-morrow," he said. "I had a hard time finding the farmhouse. It was more than a mile away, and the path led through the woods for nearly the whole distance. I suppose you are pretty hungry by this time. If you all pitch in and help we'll soon have supper."

In a short time the fire was blazing merrily. Ned was as good as his word, and the menu he set before the boys that night was a tempting one. It included fried bass, ham and eggs, and baked potatoes, with milk and pie for desert.

As the night was warm all indulged in a delicious swim after the supper dishes were cleared up. At nine o'clock they turned in and tied the tent flaps shut. Even this precaution was felt to be unnecessary, since the very loneliness of the place was a protection against harm.

Randy, who occupied the proud position of log keeper to the Jolly Rovers, sat up for a while to jot down the events of the cruise in a blank book. He finally extinguished the lantern with a sigh of satisfaction, and was soon sleeping beside his companions.

Sunday dawned bright and clear, but the boys did not get up until nine o'clock. The pine needles made a couch that was hard to leave. The day was observed in a spirit of proper regard. Its monotony was somewhat alleviated by the dinner of fried chicken, but all were glad when night came.