The stout boy sighed, yawned twice, and then, with exasperating slowness, arose to his feet. "Listen to that brook," he said. "What better music could you want than that? I certainly do like to just ramble around."

"That's it! Hurrah! hurrah!" cried Sam.

"That's what?" demanded Dave, staring at his companion in surprise.

"Hurrah! To ramble around—that's good—we'll call it the Rambler Club!" and Sam gave vent to his enthusiasm by another shout.

"Oh, yes, it's a capital name," admitted Dave. "Come on; what did you make us lose such a lot of time for?"

Sam smiled at this attempt at humor, and the two started off. By means of a rustic footbridge they crossed the stream, stopping to gaze for a moment into its crystal depths. The vegetation along the banks was rich and luxuriant, and, at this point, a low-hanging branch, with its myriad leaves of bright fresh green, was reflected in the running water.

Across fields covered with buttercups and daisies the boys took their way, until a road was reached.

The town of Kingswood, situated in the state of Wisconsin, included among its population some very wealthy gentlemen, and none were more respected than Mr. George Somers, the father of Bob. His residence, a handsome colonial mansion, known as Pembroke Hall, lay well toward the southern end, where most of the fine estates were situated.

The surrounding country formed a charming combination of wildness and cultivation, rugged hills, heavily timbered tracts and long stretches of undulating fields.

As the two boys approached the town, a youth of about their own age, who was seated on the flat top of a boulder just off the road, caught sight of them and stopped idly drumming his heels against the side of the rock. His appearance was rather striking. He had a dark complexion, rich, wavy brown hair and eyes of the same color. A lurking smile played around the corners of his mouth, giving to his face a peculiar, sarcastic expression.

"There's that 'Oh ho' fellow," he muttered; "always reading and reciting poetry when he isn't asleep." He put his hand to his mouth and shouted, "Oh ho!" several times. Then his smile deepened, as he saw the two turn.

"Oh ho! Birdie," he continued, putting all the sarcastic emphasis of which he was capable into the 

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