"I wonder who that is on the other side of the lake?" said Archie.
"I guess it's Bill Johnson," answered Frank, who had reloaded his gun, and stood holding it in the hollow of his arm. "I saw a dog that looked very much like his bringing out the geese. There he is now!"
And as he spoke the boy stepped out of the bushes, and a loud, shrill whistle echoed across the lake.
"That's Bill," said Archie. "Hallo!" he continued, raising his voice so that William could hear; "wait for us at Uncle Mike's—will you?"
"All right," shouted William, in reply.
And, gathering up his game, he again disappeared in the bushes.
By this time Brave had brought out the last of the geese, and Archie had succeeded in shooting off the wet charge; so they started back toward the road.
Frank led the way, carrying three of the geese; Brave followed close at his heels, carrying the fourth; and Archie brought up the rear, loading his gun as he went.
An hour's walk brought them to Uncle Mike's, where they found William sitting on the fence, waiting for them.
"What luck?" inquired Archie, as they came up.