"What a magnificent view," exclaimed Dave, pointing toward the opposite range of mountains.
"Couldn't be finer, Chubby," declared Bob.
"This is where we cross the stream, fellows," put in Havens. "Get ready for your bath."
"I'm going first—here's a scheme," he added. "I'll tie a rope around my waist. You fellows hang on to the end, and if I slip I won't go ten miles without stopping."
"Right you are, old man," said Bob. "That water is pretty deep in places."
The necessary precaution having been attended to, Havens carefully stepped upon a large, flat rock.
"Slippery as the dickens," he said.
"Why shouldn't it be?" observed the "poet." "It's been here for a million years, perhaps."
"Don't get to dreaming, Dave," laughed Bob.
"Chubby's the clumsiest chap I ever saw, yet he does everything right," observed Dick, thoughtfully. "At times, I feel like splashing him."