So the boys made haste with the vegetables and fruit, transferring everything to the bow of the launch, where it was neatly stacked. "What do you think of that?" Tom demanded of Dick in a whisper at the first opportunity. "The girls are chaffing us," Dick answered knowingly. "Stole the stuff, did they? That is, stole it in earnest? Nonsense! They're too nice girls for that! But I guess even nice girls, like some decent fellows, find enjoyment, once in a while, in making believe they are doing something desperate. Of course they didn't really steal this stuff." "If they did," muttered Tom, "they'd be the kind of girls we wouldn't want to know." "It's all right," Dick assured him. "Sooner or later the truth of this joke of theirs will all come out. There are no finer girls in the country than they." By this time the older people had joined them. Dr. Bentley's party embarked in the launch, taking up all the room there was. "Pass us your bow-line, and we can just as well give you boys a tow," proposed the doctor. "There is no use in your paddling." "Thank you very much, sir," Dick answered, "but paddling is just the fun for which we bought this canoe. We do it because we like it. And we'll show you how fast we can get across the lake." With a toot of the whistle the launch started. Dick gave the word to his chums. At first the canoe, even under moderate paddling, went ahead of the launch, though gradually the launch drew up. "You boys look as if you were working," called Dr. Bentley. "We're doing very little work, sir," Dave answered. "We could make the canoe go faster than this, but it would hardly do to run ahead of our guests." In truth the canoe slipped rapidly through the water with the expenditure of only a moderate amount of energy on the part of Dick & Co. In a few minutes the lake had been crossed. A point was found at which the launch could be backed in. By this time the boys were on shore, their canoe hauled up, and they stood ready to help their guests ashore. "We've landed a little below the camp," said Dick, "but it won't take us more than a minute to walk there. After we've taken you into the camp we'll return for the garden truck." Gr-r-r-r-r! came a warning sound through the bushes. "Towser!" spoke Harry Hazelton sharply. "I'm ashamed of you!" "You ought to be!" came the answer in another voice, and a surly one, at that. "Fred Ripley?" muttered Dick. "What on earth can he be doing here?" Unconsciously all of the picnickers hastened their steps. Then they came upon a truly ludicrous sight. Fred lay where he had been lying ever since ten o'clock that morning. He was coatless, stretched out face downward, with Towser still camped across his shoulder, and the dog's teeth still fastened in his shirt. "Come and call this measly dog off!" ordered Fred, in a surly tone. "This is a fine reward that I get for trying to do you fellows a friendly turn!"