“I certainly will, Dora,” he answered. “And you let me know all about what you are doing. And don’t forget to urge your mother to take a trip somewhere.”
The boys had already written to their former school chums and fellow travelers, Fred Garrison and Hans Mueller, and those boys had written back that they would arrive at the farm, with an outfit for camping, on the following Saturday.
“That will just suit!” cried Sam. “We can rest up over Sunday and start for camp Monday morning.”
“I’m anxious to see what Hans will bring,” came from Tom, who was perusing a long communication from the German American youth. “He seems to have the notion that this outing is to last into cold weather, and that we are going to hunt bears and lions and a few other wild beasts.”
“Oh, maybe he is only trying to be funny,” answered Sam.
“Hans is funny without trying to be,” put in Dick. “Just the same, he is one of the best boys in the world.”
Fred Garrison and Hans Mueller had arranged to arrive at Oak Run on the same train, and the Rover boys went to meet them as they had the folks from Cedarville, in the new touring car.
“Here she comes!” cried Sam, as the distant whistle of the locomotive reached their ears. Then the train hove in sight and they saw Fred’s head sticking out of one window and Hans’ head, out of another.
“Hello, Fred! How are you, Hans!” was the cry.
“Say, is this really the station?” asked Fred, with a grin. “I’ve been watching milk depots for the last hour.”