“Well, I was kind of curious to know whose boat it was, so I watched pretty closely, and she went in over there,” and the old boatman pointed with his hand to a spot on the opposite shore where there was a tall rock and a fair-sized cove.
“Take us over there at once and I’ll pay you well,” said Dick. “Get out two pairs of oars, and we’ll help you to row.”
Slow though he was, Caleb Belcher was always anxious to earn money, and soon a rowboat was gotten ready and the three Rover boys sprang in. The old boatman followed, and the craft was headed across the lake.
“Who lives near that spot?” questioned Dick, as they swept over the calm bosom of the lake.
“Tony Carew’s farm isn’t far off,” answered the old boatman.
“Anybody else?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Do you know this Tony Carew.”
“Guess I do—we went to school together, and licked each other more’n a dozen times,” and Caleb Belcher chuckled over the recollection.
“All right, show us to his place,” said Dick.