"Good! But there won't be very long."
"Not when you're around, Mistah Dave," laughed Booney, as the door promptly slammed behind the group.
Over the air came a steady musical hum from busy sawmills far down on the beach, while columns of yellowish smoke rose lazily against a mass of pale white clouds.
The boys' wild dash across the clearing came to an end when Mr. Lovell, smiling genially, appeared in the doorway of his cabin.
Uncle Stanley was a tall, slight, active man, with a pointed beard. He wore glasses, which gave him quite the air of a college professor. His eyes beamed with a kindly light, while his voice had a cheery ring, which, from the first, had won him the hearts of the crowd.
"Well, boys," he said, "I suppose you are ready for dinner?"
"It won't have time to get cold," laughed Bob.
They hastily fell in behind him, and presently were seated around the table, in a pleasant little dining-room, surveying the good things to eat with great satisfaction. Nothing for which any healthy boy could wish seemed lacking, except pies, tarts and ice-cream. But Booney had made some kind of astonishing pudding, which, at any rate, tasted sweet, and a great quantity soon disappeared.
"I suppose your packing is all done, boys?"
There was a touch of sadness in Uncle Stanley's tone. He looked at the bright faces before him, and sighed at the thought of their parting so soon.