Strange to say, none of the Comrades had ever been to Albany before, and the sights of the capital were a great delight to them. Deciding that it would be time well spent, they went through the capitol building, Chot and Fleet going first, and returning to stay with the canoes while Tom and Pod made the trip.

A new stock of provisions were secured, most of which were put in Fleet’s canoe, and late in the afternoon the boys pushed out from among the steamers and small craft, and threading their way through the river traffic, soon left Albany behind.

Some two hours later, just as dusk was falling, the lights of another city loomed up on the east shore.

“Troy,” said Chot. “At least I suppose it is. I’ve never been there, but I know it isn’t far from Albany.”

“Gee, but there’s a lot of cities up this way,” said Pod, to whom such sights were novel. The little fellow had never stirred from Bayville except to neighboring towns, until he entered Winton the previous fall, and the trip up the Hudson was like a glimpse into fairyland for him. It pleased the Comrades immensely to see Pod enjoying himself. They were doubly glad now that they had “chipped in” and bought him a canoe.

The boys having eaten heartily in Albany, it was decided not to stop at Troy. Darkness was falling, the moon would soon be up, and as each boy was feeling fine, it was thought best to paddle along by moonlight until a suitable camping place was found.

So they continued at a leisurely pace past the city, and were soon in the open river above. The Hudson was growing narrower now, but this detracted not at all from its beauty, and the boys were loath to leave off paddling, but the need of sleep finally led them to seek a camping place.

It was some time before they found a spot that looked nice enough to spend the night in. Past Cohoes, Lansingburg and Waterford they went, and finally turned in toward a pretty grove on the east bank. Here, under the rays of the moon, they again made their camp, much in the fashion they had on a previous occasion.

The canoes were pulled high and dry on the bank and carried well back among the trees. Then the tent was stretched, and soon the Comrades were ready for bed. They could not withstand the temptation to stop and talk a while, however, and as a fitting accompaniment to their conversation, Chot and Fleet prepared a lunch, which was washed down with cold water from a nearby spring.

“Speaking of lawyers,” said Pod, “do you know——?”

“Now, who said anything about lawyers?” demanded Fleet.

“Well, speaking of them, anyway, what would you say if you had occasion to do business with one and he charged only a nominal fee?”

“I should say,” replied Fleet, “that it was quite fee-nominal.”

So surprised was Pod at having Fleet answer one of his jokes, that for a moment he stared, open-mouthed, at his comrade. Fleet, pleased at his ready answer, was laughing heartily, and after a moment Chot and Tom joined in, much to Pod’s chagrin.

“Think you’re smart, don’t you, Fleet Kenby?” cried the little fellow.

“A little too smart for you that time, anyway.”

“Well, since you’re so smart to-night, I suppose you know what the patient said when he went to consult two dentists who were brothers, and it took both of them to pull his tooth?”

“No; I am forced frankly and unreservedly to admit, Mr. Meelick, that I do not know what the patient said,” returned Fleet, in a tone that exasperated Pod.

“Nor I,” said Chot.

“What did the patient say, Pod?” Tom demanded.

“He said, ‘Just see what two brothers can do when they pull together’,” and Pod commenced to chuckle.

But none of the others cracked a smile. Of course, they all understood the joke, but simply to irritate Pod, they pretended that they did not.

“I say, he said, ‘Just see what two brothers can do when they pull together’,” repeated Pod. “Don’t you see—pull together—two of them?”

“‘Pull together—two of them’,” echoed Tom, looking inquiringly at Chot.

“Yes; there were evidently two brothers,” said Chot. “Don’t you understand, Tom? They were dentists. They didn’t want to pull the tooth for this patient, but——”

“Oh, you don’t catch it yet,” said Pod. He was exasperated as he always was when one of his jokes fell flat. “This patient had a sense of humor——”

“Oh, I see it now,” said Fleet. “The patient had a sense of humor, fellows, so he went to have his tooth pulled. That’s the funniest thing I ever heard,” and Fleet laughed uproariously.

“No; you haven’t caught the point yet, Fleet,” said Chot. “The point to this joke lies in the fact that the patient went to see two dentists at one time. He stood there watching them for a moment, you understand, trying to decide which one he wanted to pull his tooth. Each of the dentists wanted to pull the tooth, but the patient only wanted one of the dentists to pull the tooth. Well, can’t you see—er—that is, to say——”

“I understand perfectly,” said Tom. “The joke is that both of the dentists wanted to pull the same tooth. That was funny, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t believe you’ve quite got it yet,” said Fleet. “You see when this patient entered the dentist’s office——”

There is no knowing how long this might have continued, had not Pod arose with a snort of disgust and announced his intention of going to bed.

Pod’s anger did not last long, however, and in the morning he had forgotten that there ever was such a thing as a joke about two dentists.

The boys were astir before sun-up. A fire was kindled and a pot of coffee made, and well satisfied so far as the inner boy was concerned, the boys pushed their canoes out in the stream just as Old Sol came peeping over the hills to the east.

“I want to make a good day of it,” said Chot. “We should be in Sandy Hill by to-morrow noon.”

“Sandy Hill?” inquired Fleet. “Where is that, and why do you say we should be there?”

“Because there is where we leave the Hudson.”

“Do you mean that we have a portage so soon?”

“Not exactly a portage because we do not carry our canoes. But we take the train at Sandy Point for Lake George Station on the southern end of Lake George, which is only eight miles from Bert Creighton’s home near Kattskill Bay.”

“Do you suppose Bert is looking for us so soon?”

“I told him we’d be only a few days—not more than a week, at the most—getting to his place.”

“I didn’t realize we’d covered that much ground.”

“That much water, you mean,” said Pod.

“Very well; I stand corrected.”

Chot’s predictions came pretty near working out, too, as the other boys found. A steady gait, with occasional periods of rest, sent them up the river to within eight miles of Fort Edward by ten o’clock that night. That was the biggest day’s paddling since they had left Winton, and each of the boys was glad to roll up in his blanket and sleep after the usual bed time lunch.

They were up with the sun again, however, and after a plunge in the river, felt greatly refreshed and in fine fettle for another day’s work.

Just as the siren of a factory on the west shore was announcing the arrival of the noon hour, the Comrades sighted Sandy Point, and ten minutes later had made a landing, arranged with a boy to guard their canoes, and were eating ravenously in a neighboring restaurant, where new milk and juicy steaks, the latter smothered in onions and cream potatoes, made them glad they were able for a time to forsake the river.

The meal over, the Comrades went to the depot and inquired about the next train for Lake George Station. They were informed by the agent that two-thirty was the time. The station was thirteen miles distant, and the run was made in about thirty minutes. The train was what is known in railroad circles as a “local,” and stopped at all stations en route.

The railroad was not far from the river, and the Comrades had no trouble in carrying their canoes to the depot, where they had them checked, after first purchasing tickets for Lake George Station.

It was three o’clock when they picked up the canoes at the latter place and started for the shore of the lake. They did not stop in the village, as they were anxious to reach Bert’s home before dark. A light breeze was ruffling the surface of the lake when they embarked, but not enough to in any way disturb the canoes. With the wind at their backs, and hugging the east shore, the boys paddled rapidly away from Lake George Station. Three coves, or arms, of the lake, jut into the land in this vicinity, all within the space of eight miles. On the third of these was the village of Kattskill Bay, near where Bert Creighton lived with his parents.

Chot had the topography of the region well in mind from Bert’s description, and from a map of Lake George and vicinity which he carried in his pocket, and toward evening he turned his canoe sharply to the right, as a stretch of water, which he felt must be the right cove, lay before them.

“This looks good to me,” said Fleet, as the green meadows and comfortable-looking groves came into sight. “I don’t wonder that Bert Creighton thinks he lives in the only place in the world.”

“Look at the cows grazing on the hillside yonder,” said Pod. “Hope they belong to Bert. That means fresh milk and butter, buttermilk and eggs, and——”

“Whoa!” cried Tom. “If you get eggs from those cows, you’ll be doing something miraculous, Podsy.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that,” said Pod. “But where there are cows there are usually chickens, and eggs seem to go naturally with milk and butter.”

“Don’t discuss such subjects,” said Fleet. “You make me hungry.”

“Oh, you’re always hungry—couldn’t fill you up if they poured a perpetual stream of food down your throat,” said Pod.

“Nothing like a good appetite,” said Fleet. “If I look at these hills and dales much longer, I shall break forth into verse.”

“Then don’t look at them,” advised Chot.

“I believe I feel a poem coming on.”

“Well, put on the safety valve. Hello! Who’s that? As I live, it’s Bert Creighton!”

Sure enough, there was Bert, standing at the end of a little wharf that jutted out into the lake. He was yelling and waving his hat at them. Stretching behind him was a pretty meadow, and farther on a hill on which sat a farmhouse—Bert’s home, the Comrades felt.

It was with thankful hearts that they turned their canoes in toward the wharf and grasped the hand of their old chum again.

“Gee! but I’m glad to see you fellows up here,” said Bert. “Been looking for you since yesterday,” and he led the way up a broad path toward the house.