"You boys are camping in a fisherman's paradise," declared Dr.
Bentley. "I don't blame you for liking this life. When I was
a boy fresh water fish were almost as plentiful as salt water
fish. Now, we rarely find any fresh water fish in the markets.
I can't understand how this choice retreat for fishermen has
escaped notice, unless it is because of the almost total lack
of inhabitants in this section, and the miserable apologies for
roads. Once again I must caution all of you young women not to
be indiscreet and spoil this fisherman's paradise for your young
friends by talking about it to anyone."

All four of the girls promised absolute secrecy.

After they had all satisfied their hunger, Dick asked Dr. Bentley
all about the St. Clair Lake House. He learned that it was a
fine, modern hotel, accommodating about one hundred and fifty
guests. It was just on the edge of the good roads, Dr. Bentley
explained; this side of the hotel no roads worthy of the name
existed. Dick was very thoughtful after receiving the information,
for he had something on his mind.

"How about that chauffeur of yours, doctor?" asked Dave suddenly.

"Oh, we left him with a comfortable luncheon," replied Dr. Bentley.
"He can't leave the car, you know."

"Will you take him two or three trout, sir?" urged Dick.

"And a bass, sir?" added Reade.