They sat for a time on the edge of the dock, basking enjoyably in the sun, knowing that the warmer they got the more enjoyable would be the plunge into the cool waters of the lake. It was a pretty sheet of water, with numerous miniature bays and jutting points to break the monotony of the shore line. There were many summer bungalows like the Sherwoods' cuddled among the trees near the shore of the lake, and on the north side was a fairly pretentious hotel. On such a bright afternoon the lake was bound to be studded with the boats of pleasure seekers. Canoes slipped with graceful, gliding motion from one inlet to another, while motorboats of all descriptions chugged busily over the gleaming surface. "All this will soon be over," remarked Garry, with a shade of regret in his voice. "I hate to see winter come." "But before winter comes fall, and in the fall comes football," chanted Bill. Rooster Long gave his chum an injured look. "I thought we came here to get our minds off of football for a while," he complained. "You fellows can do what you like, but I'm going in swimming." "You bet you are!" declared Garry, and gave Rooster a push that landed him splashing and sputtering in the seven feet of water at the edge of the dock. Shaking the water from his eyes, Rooster shook a fist at the grinning Garry. "Come down here and try that again," he cried. "Come up here and I will," retorted Garry. He raised his hands above his head, bent his body in the form of a bow, and clove the water with as clean and pretty a dive as one could wish to see. Coming to the surface, puffing and blowing, he found himself entwined in a pair of strong arms that he discovered a moment later belonged to Rooster. Then ensued a hilarious, aquatic wrestling match, in which each of them swallowed a good deal of water. Bill stood on the end of the dock, rooting now for one, now for the other of his guests, until in the excitement he lost his balance and fell among them throwing the combatants into temporary confusion. "He's busting up the fight!" gurgled Rooster. "Let's put him under." And so, as often happens to the innocent bystander, Bill was set upon by both Garry and Rooster and finally was forced to duck and swim some distance under water to elude his tormentors. "You had to run," called out Garry gleefully, and Bill shook a wet fist at him. "I didn't run, I swam," he returned, grinning. "I can lick you one at a time, but two together are too many for me." Ted Dillingham and Nick Danter had by this time come in with a splash, but they had scarcely touched the water when Garry's muscles suddenly became taut and he stared at an object out on the lake. "Look at that motorboat!" he cried, as the other boys followed the direction of his gaze. "Must be going fifty miles an hour." "Some fool driving," remarked Bill carelessly. "I'll say that he's a fool!" cried Garry excitedly. "Look, fellows, he's heading straight for those rocks on the south shore!"