against the windshield and the other outside the car, “I believe it’s a good idea for a village or a city to move; it gets into a rut sort of and needs a change. It’s bad to stay too long in one place. Now you take Brooklyn for instance, or Jersey City—”

“I often feel as if I’d like to get away and do something else for a while,” said Tom, taking a serious view of Brent’s talk. “I don’t mean give up my job at camp, of course, but just get off on a kind of a—you know.”

“Restless kind of—I know,” said Brent. “Be nice to get off in that boat, huh? The one you were shouting about? Just flop around. I suppose you could bang down south in a boat like that. Start about, oh say in October, and hit Palm Beach for the cold weather. I’d like to go down to Dixie so as to get away from the Dixie songs we have up here. There’s nothing like the water, Slady old boy. If I ever get rich I’m going to have a yacht.”

Tom mused, his thoughts returning fondly to the Goodfellow. “She’s some boat all right,” he said. “Hang it all, now you’ve got me thinking of it again.” Then, after a pause he said, “Like to take a little ride over to the Reservoir and pike around? It would only take an hour or so. I feel kind of restless to-day; I don’t want to go straight back. I’ll show you the boat, too, if you care to see it, when we get back to Catskill. It doesn’t cost anything to look at it,” he added wistfully.

“Anywhere you want to go, Tommy,” drawled Brent. “I’ll look at anything you want to show me.

“That’s very kind of you,” said Tom, glancing amusedly at his companion. Brent reclined in an ungainly posture of complacent ease with a: whimsically observant look on his face as if ready to be interested in anything and everything which did not require any physical exertion. It got on Tom’s nerves a little, but it amused him.

They drove through the clean, pleasant city of Kingston and over the bridge across the Esopus Creek and along the fine, smooth highway which parallels the Ulster and Delaware Railroad. A ride of half an hour or so brought them in sight of the vast, artificial lake which furnishes water to the distant metropolis.

“Pretty big drink of water, hey?” drawled Brent.

“They say it’s forty miles around it,” said Tom. “The dam is way over at the other end.”

They could not see the whole reservoir from the road, but they caught glimpses of it and could form an 

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