boys and their account of themselves. “Even at that they may be stringing me,” he remarked a bit uneasily as he glanced toward the fast disappearing speck in the sky, but he dismissed the thought immediately for he felt confident the step-brothers were entirely trustworthy.

In the meantime Her Highness climbed in swift spirals for three thousand feet, then Bob leveled her off, set his course and started toward North Hero, which is one of many delightful bits of land in Lake Champlain. Presently the boys could see a tiny shack with the British Flag floating on one side, the Stars and Stripes on the other.

“They look like good pals,” Jim said into the speaking tube, and Bob glanced over the side.

“Great pair,” he responded. “Not like the border at Texas.” He took a good look at the huge lake that stretched out restlessly between New York State and Vermont. “We could use that down our way.”

“Let’s send some of it to Dad. Remember how long it is?”

“One hundred and twenty-eight miles.”

“Bigger than the two ranches together.” They flew on until they were flying over the water, and Jim took the glasses to get a better view of the historic lake. He picked out Rouse’s Point, then on to the picturesque sections of land whose rocky coasts had defied the pounding waves. There was Isle La Motte, with it’s farms at one end and long wooded stretch at the other where the Fenton’s kept their turkeys. Beyond, united by a long bridge was North Hero Island, cut up into small homesteads. There were acres of uncultivated land which was now blue and yellow with flowers, groves of cedar, elm and ash, to say nothing of delicate green spots that the boys knew were gardens or meadows. Further on was Grand Isle, also connected by a bridge, but they were not going that far.

“Let’s hop down on the turkey end of La Motte,” Jim suggested, and Bob nodded. He shut the engine off, let Her Highness glide, and circled for a landing place. “Get on the water.” Young Caldwell kicked forward a lever which shifted landing wheels to water floats, selected a smooth cove, and in a moment they lighted, splashed and stopped.

“Hey you, get the heck out of here. Get out!” The voice came from back of a fallen tree, and in a moment a huge man whose face was ugly with anger, walked along the dead bole and shook his fist at them. “Get out. You ain’t no business around here.”

“We just 

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