"If you didn't happen to fall off, Chubby," replied one of the others.
"Now the question is, how are we going to make this trip?" observed Sam Randall.
"By boat and train," said Bob.
"And we shall start out in my little sloop?" queried Dave Brandon. "It can carry five, easily."
The plan was unanimously endorsed.
"We can put ashore at night, pitch a tent, and live like regular nimrods," said Bob, gleefully. "Imagine sitting around a blazing camp-fire, and talking over our experiences."
"Or taking a noonday siesta in the shade of some fine old tree," suggested Dave, humorously.
"Yes—at long intervals," returned Sam Randall. "There's no doubt about our having a grand time. And won't Nat Wingate be sorry to miss all the fun?"
That evening, on his way home, Sam encountered Nat sitting on the steps of the post-office, and was immediately met with a volley of questions. Sam was too full of enthusiasm to conceal the plans of the Ramblers from the rejected applicant, but he did not fail to note that a very curious look came over Nat's face when he learned of their destination.
"What!" he almost stammered. "Are you going on a wild chase to such a place as that? Old Somers' land is no good, and I don't suppose you could find any hunting at all."