“Almost wish we’d gone along with ’em,” added Tom. Then, as his ears suddenly caught the sound of distant voices, he added: “Let’s catch up with those cheeky prep-school boys. Guess they know the way. Mighty easy to get twisted up in this tangle.”
A network of fairy lights and shadows now streaked the ground and tree trunks, and here and there a rock shone strangely distinct. Each moment new vistas of weird beauty opened out before them.
“If there were any such things as woodland sprites this would be just the place for ’em,” said Fred, as he surveyed the scene. “Ah, I see those chaps now.”
The group had come to a halt in a small clearing, and the house-boat boys soon realized that they were in no hurry to leave. Bill Stiles and Roy Pinger were having another animated discussion.
“Hello!” called Bob Somers.
Conversation stopped, and the boys, evidently taken by surprise, awaited their approach.
“Why, say, you’re the chaps we saw on the road,” remarked Stiles, as the four came up. “Where are the other two Bills? There were six of you, I thought. Whiz—is it to Nyack they go? Did you see the chaffer?”
“Oh, no,” laughed Bob, “not yet.”
“I’m awfully glad that chap gave them the slip; don’t blame him for keeping out of sight for a while. Say, I’d like to see that house-boat of yours.”
“We don’t even charge for looking at it.”