The idea pleased the others. They got their suits from the dock house where they kept them, and soon were in their boat rowing for the swimming hole, just below the Riffles.
“Wonder if we’ll see the King of Paprica?” said Bart.
“They needn’t worry; we’ll not bother ’em.”
“How do you know?” asked Frank quickly.
“Well I passed the place where the hut was the other day, and it was gone.”
“They may have moved it to another place because they didn’t want us to know where it was,” suggested Fenn.
“They needn’t worry, we’ll not bother ’em,” said Bart. “It’s too hot to tramp through the woods to-day.”
The boys rowed leisurely up the stream, keeping close in shore, where there was plenty of shade. At one place they could send the craft along under an arch of overhanging bushes which made a sort of bower.
They had scarcely entered this spot, which was about half a mile below the swimming hole, when there sounded a cracking in the woods that told them some one was walking along the shore.