“What’s ever become of Hiram Munsell? Hi Munsell we called him.”
“Oh, he went out to the state o’ Milwaukee. He’s got rich too, they say.”
“Went where?”
“The state o’ Milwaukee. He’s a policeman an’ gets a thousan’ dollars a year, or leastwise that’s what the report is. You know as much as I do about whether it’s true or not. I hev my doubts, myself. Hi always was one to stretch it pooty good, as you may recommember yerself.”
Mr. Cope glanced again reprovingly at the boys, who for some strange reason appeared to be highly delighted at the reference to the “state” to which the wealthy Hi had gone, and said quickly,—
“Well, Ethan, I want to talk over old times with you some more, and I want to go over to the old schoolhouse, too; but I’m to have only a day or two here, and I fancy the boys are more interested in my putting that to good use than they are in our reminiscences, so if you’re agreed, we’ll try the sport for a time. Can you take us fishing now?”
Ethan responded that he could, and when the two skiffs were made ready it was discovered that Bob was not to go with them. Ben said nothing, though his suspicions were at once aroused, and at first he, too, was inclined to remain in camp; but Jock’s evident disappointment was so marked that he hastily recalled his words, and said that he would go, making one proviso, that he should be permitted to take his canoe with him.
Mrs. Cope was to remain in the camp, declaring that she wished to look after some of the belongings of the boys, which she said were in a “sad state,” though just what she meant by the expression she did not explain, and that she was not in the least afraid of being lonesome. The party soon set forth in the skiffs, from one of which Ben’s ever present canoe was towed, and Ethan directed the way to a spot where none of them had as yet been. Mr. Cope apparently was most enthusiastic of all. Whatever may have been his inability to cast aside his pressing problems when he was at home, here certainly they were not to be found, and he entered into the sport with all the zest of the boys themselves.
Their former successes in no way seemed to interfere with the eagerness of the campers in the present experience, and when at last Ethan and Tom rowed ashore to prepare dinner, they had all had a degree of success which corresponded with their most ardent desires.
After dinner the sport was resumed, but about the middle of the afternoon Ethan rowed his skiff close in to the other, and Mr. Cope called out: “Boys, we’ve decided to land over here and go up to the old schoolhouse, which isn’t more than a mile and a half from the shore. Jock wants to go; and if you would like to go too, we should be glad to have you. What do you say?”