"You can just bet we'd like it," declared Bob, enthusiastically.
"The lake is perfectly safe as far as the passage between the islands," went on Fenton. "I won't take you into any danger."
"You are not going to find us a scary crowd," laughed Bob; and the matter was arranged then and there. Fenton soon after took his departure.
"A nice chap, that," observed Dave, as his slight figure grew small in the distance.
"Awful glad we got acquainted so soon," said Tom. "Somehow or other, he doesn't seem like a stranger. A smart fellow, too."
"He's in good company, then, Tom," was Dick Travers' rejoinder.
That evening, the Ramblers sat on the wide veranda, enjoying the pleasant air.
The moon was mirrored in shining streaks on the breeze-swept waters of the lake, and its light played hide-and-seek on the mountain crags beyond. Several peaks gleamed ghostly white against a greenish sky, while the valley appeared gray and mysterious.
"Some of those mountains look like volcanoes," observed Tom.
"When did you ever see a volcano?" laughed Dick.