Part 6 (1/2)

The boys were not slow to appreciate the ludicrous side of Nugget's adventure, and they laughed long and heartily.

Then the miller told how he found the canoe in a stretch of back water that ran a few yards in from the creek, and how surprised he was when he pulled the ap.r.o.n off the c.o.c.kpit and saw Nugget fast asleep.

”I noticed that inlet,” said Ned, ”but I didn't see anything of the canoe.”

”Because I pulled it out in the bushes,” replied the miller. ”The current has a natural drift toward the place, and clogs it up with rubbish sometimes. The lad had a narrow squeeze of it when he went through that hole in the dam. I intend to fix it as soon as the water goes down a little.”

”I don't want to go through any more such places,” said Nugget. ”I suppose that ap.r.o.n was what kept the water out. I s.h.i.+pped a little bit, though I didn't know it until this morning, when I found my clothes all wet. My extra suit is in your canoe, Randy. I had dry s.h.i.+rts, though.

Say, wouldn't I look nice marching down Fifth Avenue in this rig?”

The boys laughed at the idea, and then drew their chairs away from the table, and chatted for half an hour with the miller, relating all that had happened on the previous night, and telling him of their proposed trip to the Susquehanna. He, in turn, gave them much interesting information about the creek, where to camp and where to fish.

Ten o'clock came before any one realized it, and the boys prepared to depart, in spite of their host's earnest invitation to stay for a day or two. Nugget changed his clothes, and started for the inlet with the miller, while the others embarked in their canoes, after thanking the miller's wife for her hospitality.

The inlet was half a mile down the creek. The boys reached there first, and were joined by the others two or three minutes later.

Fortunately Nugget's paddle was not lost. He had found it stranded along the sh.o.r.e while on his way to the mill that morning.

The boys lingered a moment to shake hands with their kind hearted friend, and thank him for his services.

”That's all right,” said the miller, ”only too glad to oblige you. Be sure and stop when you pa.s.s here again. My name is John Kling.”

”We'll spend a week with you next time,” returned Ned, as he grasped his paddle.

”Please have the dam mended before then,” drawled Nugget.

The miller laughed and waved his hand, and amid a chorus of ”good-byes”

the Jolly Rovers paddled away from sh.o.r.e. The shadow of misfortune was forgotten, and the future was full of bright antic.i.p.ations, as before.

The birds sang among the leaves, the fish leaped in the ripples, and the sunlight danced on the blue water.

The little island, where the boys had spent such a wretched night, was soon far behind, and they entered upon a more beautiful stretch of country than they had yet seen. The water was very sluggish, and on each side were great hills densely covered with pine and spruce trees.

The temptations to stop were so frequent that by mid-afternoon the boys were scarcely five miles from the mill--that is to say by water. It was probably less than half that distance in a straight line.

”I'm really hungry again in spite of that big breakfast,” said Clay.

”Can't we stop and have lunch?”

”I second that,” cried Randy.

The others were of the same mind, and as a very pretty spot happened to come within view about that time, they paddled across to it and landed.

Closer inspection only added to the charms of the place.

It lay on the right sh.o.r.e, at the mouth of a deep, dark ravine. A beach of smooth pebbles sloped back to a gra.s.sy bank three or four feet high, and on the plateau above were a dozen or more ma.s.sive girthed pine trees, whose fragrant needles carpeted the ground. A fair sized brook gurgled through the center over a bed of mossy stones, and emptied into the creek.

”We might travel a good many miles and not find such a place as this,”

said Ned. ”Suppose we stay here for a day or two. Tomorrow is Sunday and we would have to stop then anyhow.”