"Why do they call Dugan 'Big Bill'?" asked Tom Clifton. "He isn't big."
Fenton grinned.
"Has a nephew of the same name," he explained. "He's smaller, so it's 'Big Bill' and 'Little Bill.' Fine pair they are, too. Hello—here we are."
This announcement interested the boys immensely. The coach was turning into a private road, which led toward a substantial two-story building. Standing some distance back of the main thoroughfare, its graceful white outlines could be seen, surrounded by beautiful trees and shrubbery. To its left was a stable.
"Not a bad looking place, eh, fellows?" observed Bob, with satisfaction.
"It's dandy," put in Dick Travers, enthusiastically. "And so close to the lake."
"Yum—yum, I can't see anything, I'm so hungry," sighed Dave. "Thank goodness—no more traveling to-day."
As Dugan brought up his horses before the entrance, a smiling colored lad rushed out.
"I 'clar' to goodness, the boys has come at last, eh? Mistah Dugan!" he exclaimed. "I certainly is glad, for suah."
"Show it then, Sam Bins, by helpin' to git this here truck off the rattleboard," growled the driver.