Along the edge of the lake they trudged, heading toward the spot where the smoke rose from among some trees.
Ten minutes brought them to a cabin near the lake shore and they hallooed from the outside to attract attention.
The heavy log door opened and a man’s head poked out.
“Is this Old Moose Lake?” Frank asked.
The man answered in the affirmative.
“Will you please tell us where the Parsons’ camp is?” Frank continued.
“Sure, boys! Just follow the trail along the lake until you come to a big camp, a bungalow. Then turn sharp to the right, go up between two hills, and follow that trail for about a mile. It’s plain going one way, but it ain’t so plain coming back, ’cause there’s a fork beyond those hills.”
The man came out of the cabin meanwhile, and was pointing in the direction the boys should take.
“You boys ain’t old man Parsons’ boys, are you?” he asked.
Whereupon Frank vouchsafed the information that they were given permission to camp at the place by Mrs. Parsons, and after thanking the man they continued on their way.