They went back to fishing after a while and caught enough for supper at the farmhouse. Just as they were reeling up their lines the silence of the place was disturbed by a strange sound.
“There's a motorcycle coming!” cried Sister, jumping up and looking all around.
There was a bend in the river below this bottom, and another above; so they could not see far in either direction unless they climbed to the high ground. For a minute Hiram could not tell in which direction the sound was coming; but he knew the steady put-put-put must be the exhaust of a motor-boat.
It soon poked its nose around the lower turn. It was a good-sized boat and instantly Hiram recognized at least one person aboard.
Miss Lettie Bronson, in a very pretty boating costume, was in the bow. There were half a dozen other girls with her—well dressed girls, who were evidently her friends from the St. Beris school at Scoville.
“Oh, oh! what a pretty spot!” cried Lettie, on the instant. “We'll go ashore here and have our luncheon, girls.”
She did not see Hiram and Sister for a moment; but the latter tugged at Hiram's sleeve.
“I've seen that girl before,” she whispered. “She came in the carriage with the man who spoke to you—you remember? She asked me if I had always lived in the country, and how I tore my frock.”
“Isn't she pretty?” returned Hiram.
“Awfully. But I'm not sure that I like her yet.”