To Dave Brandon's intense surprise, Nat greeted him without any show of ill feeling.
"Oh ho, Davy!" he exclaimed, with a peculiar glance at his companion. "Oh ho! So you are really going on that little trip to the wilds?"
"Certainly," responded Brandon.
"They'll have a great time, eh, John? Awful prospect ahead for the birds and beasts of the forest."
"Wish I could go, too," drawled John. "Not taking in any new members, are you?"
"No! It's an exclusive organization—only the élite admitted," laughed Nat. "And such luck, too, to have a beautiful little boat just thrown at them, eh?"
"Wonder if any other fellows around here could ever have a piece of good luck like it," grumbled John. "I say, those motor boats must be great—no sails to bother with, or oars to pull."
"That will just suit Dave," commented Nat. "Guess you'll lie on your back and read poetry all day?"
"Very likely," smiled Dave; "and perhaps write some, too."
"Worse and worse. Hope no one will be compelled to read it." Nat gave a comical grimace, while John Hackett burst into a loud laugh.