“The best news I’ve heard in a long time,” said Spouter. “Just think of an outing in the shade of the primeval forest, close to the shore of a placid lake, where we can sit and meditate and watch the sun going down over the distant hills, and where we can hear the hoot of the lonely owl as it flits around seeking its mate, and where—”
“The ants get into the sugar, the flies into the butter, and where you always wake up if you happen to walk into a hornet’s nest or a den of snakes,” finished Andy.
“Who said anything about ants or hornets, or snakes either?” snorted Spouter. “You never do give me a chance to say something worth while.”
“Never mind, Spouter, you’ll have your chance later on,” said Randy. “Some day when you are all alone in camp, and we have gone on a clambake or to hunt bears, you can stand on a rock in the middle of the lake and orate to your heart’s content.”
“That’s the stuff, Spouter! Just think of standing on a floating rock delivering an address,” chuckled Randy. “Wouldn’t that be original?”
“I’ll address you if you don’t look out,” answered Spouter, and threw a handful of dirt at his tormentor.
After that the boys plied Gif with questions in regard to the bungalow at Big Bear Lake and as to where the place was located.
“All I can tell you is that we’ll take the train to Boston and then another train to a place called Rocky Run. That’s a small place at the upper end of the lake. There we’ll take our boats—my father owns three of them—and row down the lake until we reach the bungalow. The lake, you know, is several miles long and between a quarter and a half a mile wide and has a number of islands in it. One of the islands used to have a fishing club colony on it, but the whole place burned down several years ago.”
“Any other places on the lake besides Rocky Run?”