Having finished dressing, the boys lost no time in following Dunston Porter toward the rock which had been the goal of the swimming race. They found the old hunter and traveler searching through the brushwood back of the rocks. "Did you get it, Uncle Dunston?" questioned Dave. "I did," was the reply. "What's left of that snake is over yonder," and Mr. Porter pointed with his hand. "I'm looking around here to see if there are any more of them, but I rather fancy that is all there is." The charge from the shotgun had fairly torn the reptile to pieces, for when Dunston Porter had fired the snake had been coiled up, evidently ready for an attack. Arming themselves with clubs and stones, the boys joined Dunston Porter in the hunt for more reptiles, but their search was unsuccessful; and a little while later all returned to the bungalows. "Did you find any other snakes?" asked Jessie, after she had been told about the one that had been killed. "No, and I don't think there are any others," answered Mr. Porter. "Well, I hope there are not," put in Laura, "but if there are I wish you had found them." "We can't find what isn't there," said Luke, with a grin. "Say, that puts me in mind of a story," burst out Shadow. "Wow!" ejaculated Roger. "Here comes another!" "Oh, say! this is a good one," pleaded the would-be story-teller. "It's about an old college graduate who was a regular fiend for football. He would undergo almost any hardship for the sake of getting to a game. Well, one time there was a great contest on between two of the big colleges, and although old Bixby nearly broke his back to get there, he didn't arrive until late. 'Say, how is it going?' he puffed to a gate-keeper. 'Nothing to nothing, middle of the second half,' answered the gate-keeper. 'Is that so?' returned old Bixby. 'That's good! I haven't missed anything,' and he passed in." And at this anecdote there was a general laugh. In the afternoon while the young folks were enjoying themselves in various ways around the bungalows, they heard the put-put of a motor, and looking out on Mirror Lake, saw the craft belonging to the moving-picture company manager approaching, loaded with the furniture that had been borrowed. "Here they come with our things!" cried Ben. "Looks like a house moving; doesn't it?" They saw that the boat was in sole charge of Mr. Appleby, and as the craft drew closer the moving-picture manager gave them a cheery hail. "Going into the moving business instead of moving pictures, eh?" cried Dave. "I thought I might as well bring this stuff back while I had a chance," answered the manager, and soon brought his motor-boat to a standstill beside the dock. Then the boys made short work of taking the furniture back to the bungalows. "I've got news for you, Mr. Porter," announced the moving-picture man, after the job was finished. "I've seen that young rascal, Link Merwell." "You have!" exclaimed Dave, eagerly. "Up at your camp?" "That's it."