“He’s all of that. And maybe a little pepper, as well. But you and old Chick will be chums, I promise you. Now we’ll pack you two girls off to Fern Falls, and I’ll do a few man’s size errands, and Bill, here, will make his will and dispose of his estate, before going off into the wilderness with a horde of wild Indians. Then tomorrow, he’ll pick us up at Fern Falls, and we’ll all go on our way rejoicing.”
“Not so fast,” said Adele, after Jim finished his speech. “You two men can go where you like, Patty and I will take a taxi, and do some last fond lingering bits of shopping, before we go home. Don’t you s’pose we want some shoes and veils and——”
“Sealing-wax?” asked Farnsworth, laughing. “All right, you ladies go and buy your millinery, and I’ll see you again tomorrow on the train.”
As might have been expected, with such capable management, everything went on smoothly, and it was a clear, bright afternoon when they completed the last stage of their journey, and the train from Portland set them down at their destination.
Not quite at their destination, however, for motorbuses were in waiting to take them to the hotel itself.
For more than an hour they bumped or glided over the varying roads, now through woods, and now through clearing.
At last, a vista suddenly opened before them, and they saw a most picturesque lake, its dark waters touched here and there by the setting sun. It was bordered by towering pines and spruces, and purple hills rose in the distance.
“Stunning!” cried Patty, standing up in the car to see better. “I never saw such a theatrical lake. It’s like grand opera! Or like the castled crag of Drachenfels, whatever that is.”
“I used to recite that at school,” observed Chick Channing; “so it must be all right, whatever it is.”