Skates were quickly removed, the sleds drawn up on shore and the two parties set out.
Bob, Dick Travers and Dave Brandon kept in a southerly direction, while the others pushed north.
"Any number of good places around here," exclaimed the stout boy, after a short search. "There's one, right by that clump of pines."
"Hello—hello!" came a faint hail from the distance.
"It's Hackett," said Dave, as they turned and saw a dark figure on the edge of the lake waving his arms.
"They must have found a good place."
"Hello!" yelled the distant figure again. "Dandy place."
This was all they could make out, but it was enough.
The three boys hurried forward.
In the course of a few minutes, hauling the sleds after them, they rejoined the others.