Yet the procession seemed to be slowing up at the head and, Oh, joy, there was Grandfather making a distribution of ice-cream cones to grown-ups and children alike. Even the porters ate theirs with evident pleasure, consuming the very last scrap of the cone itself. Then they led the way down a very steep hill and along a pleasant path to a cottage that faced the blue water of the lake. "Here you are," they said to Mrs. Morton. "And this must be our landlord's son waiting to open the house for us," said Mrs. Morton as a boy of Roger's age came forward to meet them. Her guess was right and James Hancock instantly proved himself an agreeable and useful friend. The Hancocks lived in New Jersey in a town not far from the Mortons, but they never had happened to meet at home. "How many people are there here now?" asked Roger as James helped him carry the bags into the house. "Oh, I don't know just how many to-day, but there are usually about twelve or fifteen thousand at a time when the season gets started." "There must be awful crowds." "The people do bunch up at lectures and concerts but if you don't like crowds you don't have to go, you know." "What do the fellows our age do?" "Swim and row and sail. Do you like the water?" "My father is in the Navy," replied Roger as if that was a sufficient answer. "Then you'll go in for all the water sports. The older chaps in the Athletic Club let us use their club house sometimes, and they say that this summer there's going to be a club especially for boys of our age--too old for the Boys' Club and too young for the Athletic Club." "Good enough, I'll join," declared Roger, who was the most sociable lad on earth. "Can I help your mother any more? So long, then. I live two houses off--in that red one over there just beyond the boarding house--so I'll see you a lot," and James leaped over the rail of the porch and strolled off toward the Pier. "He seems like a nice boy," said Mrs. Morton; "I'm glad he lives so near." "I wonder if he has any sisters," queried Helen. "Did you ask him, Roger?" Roger had not and he admitted to himself that it was a mistake he would remedy the next time he saw James. Just as he was thinking about it the baggage wagon drove up with the trunks. On top was Jo, the porter. "Hullo," he called. "Hullo," returned Roger. "I didn't know you rustled trunks as well as bags." "I don't. I rode down to ask you something," and he proceeded to swing down a trunk to the other two young men as if to hurry up matters so that he could attend to his errand. "Now, what is it?" asked Roger when all the pieces of luggage had been placed about the house to his mother's satisfaction, and the dray had gone. "I don't know whether you'll care for it or not, but you were so interested I thought I'd give you first chance if you did want it," Jo tried to explain. "Want what?"