“We’ll talk it over tonight—after you have had supper.”
Fred and Hans had been at the farm before and the old folks greeted them warmly. As usual, Mrs. Rover had a substantial meal prepared, and it did her good to see how both Hans and Fred relished the things provided. The German youth especially had a good appetite, and he stowed away so much it looked as if he would burst.
“Say, we’ll have to take along lots to eat,” whispered Sam to Dick. “If we don’t, Hans will clean us out in no time.”
“Well, we’ll take all we need,” answered the big brother.
After supper the five lads talked over the plans for camping out, and it was finally decided that they should journey up the Swift River to Lake Nasco. They were to remain in camp for a week or ten days, and possibly two weeks.
As my old readers know, the Swift River could not be navigated around the Falls—those awful falls where the boys had once had such a harrowing experience. But further up, the watercourse was fairly deep and smooth, and from that point the boys decided to take the small sailboat and either sail or row to the lake, two miles further on.
“We’ll drive to the boat landing with the farm wagon,” said Dick. “Jack Ness can take us, and bring the wagon back.”
On Sunday the entire family went to the village church and the visitors accompanied them. In the afternoon the boys inspected their outfits and took it easy. Fred and Hans sent letters home, stating they had arrived safely, and the Rovers sent letters to Cedarville.
“Hans, while you are in camp, don’t forget to take a picture of the Pluibuscus,” said Tom. “They don’t charge to take those.”
“Vot is dot?” asked Hans innocently.