Thoroughly mystified, the trio started off, stopping at the homes of their fellow members, to tell them the latest news.

Both lads were as curious as their friends, and all indulged in a great deal of wild speculation, as they made their way in the direction of Lloyd's Clearing.

"I call this grand!" exclaimed Dave, drawing in a long breath of the pure air. "Just imagine what fun it will be, camping out."

"If we could only start right away," said Tom. "I'm longing for the time to come."

There was a well defined path leading off from the main road across several fields, through a little copse of giant pines, and then down a gradual decline between two hills until it came out on the bank of a creek.

Upon reaching it, the boys turned to the left, and were presently traversing an extensive tract of woods, through which the little watercourse wended its way.

Occasionally, rabbits darted across their track, and squirrels, disturbed by the strange visitation, climbed swiftly to their sheltered retreats. Everywhere the woodland occupants gave evidence of their presence, and the cheery song of birds enlivened the air.

At a little glen, Dave Brandon, who had quite a reputation as a naturalist among his classmates, pointed out a great bald eagle soaring in the sky.

But the other members of the Rambler Club, at this moment, had but one thought, and that was to reach Lloyd's Clearing as quickly as possible.

Soon a glimpse of the river was visible between the trees. Then the boys broke into a trot. Across the open space they raced pell-mell, and, panting and excited, reached the river's brink. There a sight met their eyes which caused them to utter many and varied exclamations of surprise.

Moored to a rude little wharf, resplendent in the sunlight, lay the finest motor boat they had ever seen.

Then their astonished gaze rested on the stern, upon which was painted in large Roman script this magic word, "Rambler."

 CHAPTER III

NAT IS ANGRY

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