"What must it be down in the city?" returned Owen. "I wouldn't be living there now for double wages."
During those hot days bathing was very much in order, and Dale and Owen patronized the pond or the river, both morning and evening. Each was a good swimmer, and they consequently got a good deal of sport out of the plunges.
The building of the road occasionally took them to the vicinity of Mr. Wilbur's lodge, and they soon learned that Mrs. Wilbur had arrived there, accompanied by her two children, a little curly-haired girl of five, named Gertrude, and a manly chap of six, named Bertie. Later on a number of relatives and visitors were expected, and with them Mr. Wilbur, who was now in the West looking up his lumber interests in that locality.
"They ought to have a good time," remarked Owen. "They haven't got a thing to do but to enjoy themselves."
"I don't know that I want to be idle all the time," replied Dale. "I wouldn't know what to do with myself."
"That's true, too. But I'd like to take a day off when I felt like it."
One day the young lumbermen were coming along the lake road when they espied the Wilbur children coming toward them. They were on a run, hand in hand, and came to a halt directly in front of the team.
"Give us a ride?" shouted both, in their childish treble. "Give us a ride?"
"To be sure we'll give you a ride," answered Owen good-naturedly, and brought the horses to a stand. Then he jumped to the ground and lifted up first Gertrude and then Bertie, and Dale made them safe and comfortable on the broad seat.
"Oh, let me drive!" came from Bertie, and he grasped one of the lines. Gertrude immediately secured the other, and away went the lumber wagon once more, both Owen and Dale keeping watch that nothing should go amiss.