The boys made an early start the next morning and, just as it was getting dusk they made a turn in the broadening river, and, saw spread out before them a big sheet of water.
Lake Cantoga was about fifteen miles long and nine wide. There were several small islands in it, and these, as well as the shores were favorite spots for camping parties. The boys decided to pick out one of the islands, but, as it was getting dark, they could not see which one had not been selected by other campers.
“I think we had better tie up along shore to-night,” said Jerry, as he steered the boat out upon the lake. “We can look about better in the morning.”
“Suits me,” said Bob, and Ned agreed.
As the Dartaway skimmed out from the shadows of the shore she was seen by the owners of other power boats, and greeted with the regulation three whistles, to which Jerry replied.
“Guess they’re glad to see us,” he remarked. “I had no idea there were so many here this year. Maybe we’ll get a race.”
“That will be bully sport,” said Bob.
“Going to camp here?” called the steersman of one boat, which, as the boys could see, was evidently built for racing, as there was little room for anything but the engine.
“We figure on staying a week or so,” replied Jerry.
“Glad of it,” replied the stranger. “My name’s Smith, just plain John Smith. I’m camping with some friends over on Coon’s Island. Come over and see us when you get settled.”