“And I must go to Bayville. Mr. Hounson would never forgive me if I passed him by,” said Pod.
“Naturally not,” said Chot. “He’s your benefactor. You owe him everything.”
“I know I do,” said the little fellow earnestly. “If it hadn’t been for him I never would have been able to enter Winton.”
“I wonder how our telephone is getting along?” ventured Fleet.
“Very well, no doubt,” said Chot. “Our folks have been making good use of it. There was nothing to do but have the batteries restored occasionally.”
“And we’ll use it again, won’t we?” cried Fleet, delighted at the thought.
“Surely,” said Tom. “I feel that we had a hard enough time getting it up, with Chot shirking his duty to talk to Lucy Pendleton, that we ought to get all the good we can out of it.”
It was fast growing dark, but the boys saw a number of lights on Isle Perrot, and headed toward one of these with the intention of seeking out a camping place.
CHAPTER XV—THE THOUSAND ISLANDS AT LAST
No more delightful camping ground could be imagined than that discovered by the boys on Isle Perrot. Lying at the mouth of the Ottawa River, the arms of which pass on either side, as they flow into the larger stream on their way to the sea, the island is at all times tempered by cooling breezes, and the nights, especially, are so comfortable that once the traveler reaches the island he is loath to leave it.