"Say, that puts me in mind of a story!" cried Shadow, eagerly. "Once a bear got away from his keeper and wandered around a little New England village until he came to a cottage where an old lady lived. All of the villagers were scared to death, and some of them started to get their shotguns and rifles with which to kill Mr. Bruin. But the old lady had her own idea of what to do. She grabbed up a broomstick and began to hammer that bear right on his nose, and would you believe me? Mr. Bruin got so scared that he ran away and then went straight back to his keeper and allowed himself to be chained up again!" "Shadow, is that a true story or a made-up yarn?" asked Laura. "It was told to me down East, and they said it was absolutely true," was the answer. "They even gave me the name of the old lady." "Say, Shadow, it was a wonder they didn't give you the name of the broomstick," said Dave, and with that there was a short laugh. Dave, Roger, and Phil had been given two rooms between them. One was considerably smaller than the other, and this Dave occupied. On the other side of a little hallway were the girls, while Mr. and Mrs. Wadsworth and Dunston Porter occupied large chambers next to the living-room. In the rear were two tiny rooms for the hired help. At the other bungalow Ben and his friends occupied three little rooms, while Mr. and Mrs. Basswood had a large apartment off to one side. At this bungalow there was an extra large living-room in which was placed, among other things, a small upright piano, somewhat out of tune but still usable. "Now don't you boys dare to play any tricks to-night!" said Laura, when she and her girl friends were about to retire. "You just keep your tricks for some other time." "All right, Laura, I'll make Roger and Phil be good," answered her brother. "I guess we are all tired enough to sleep soundly." And he certainly spoke the truth as far as he personally was concerned, for hardly had his head touched the pillow than he was off to the land of dreams. The boys were up bright and early on the following morning. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining brightly and a gentle breeze blowing from the West. To be sure, the forest back of the bungalow was still wet, but it had dried off down at the shore of the lake, and at the dock where were located two rowboats and several canoes. "Let us all go out for a row after breakfast," suggested Dave. "It will limber us up." The aroma of freshly-made coffee and of sizzling bacon filled the air between the bungalows, and soon the young folks who had gone down to the dock to look at the lake and the craft on it, came trooping back for their breakfast. "Don't you think it would be more pleasant if we could all eat together, Mrs. Wadsworth?" said Laura, while they were partaking of the repast.