"Fine! They can sit in the alcove, and we'll put some of our palms around them," returned Jason Sparr.
"Remember, this is for next Saturday night, seven o'clock sharp," said Phil.
"I've got it down," returned the hotel proprietor, as he wrote in his book.
"And don't say anything to anybody about it. I want to surprise my friends."
"Very well, mum's the word," and the hotel man looked very wise and knowing.
Leaving the place, Phil and Ben sought out the home of Professor Smuller, a violinist, who, with a friend who played the harp, often furnished music for dances and other occasions.
"Yes, yes, I can furnish music," said the violinist. "Just tell me what you want." Business was slow and he was glad to get any sort of an engagement.
The matter was explained, and the professor promised to be on hand and bring the harpist with him. He said he could play anything the students desired, including the well-known school songs. He would fill the engagement for the boys for eight dollars, although his regular price was ten. But he would have to have cash in advance.
Again Phil paid out his money, and then, the business concluded, he and Ben left the professor's home and hurried along the road leading to Oak Hall.
"Have you made up your list yet?" asked Ben, when nearing the school.
"Not quite. I'll have Dave and Roger and Shadow and Buster, of course. I'll have to leave out some fellows, but that can't be helped. I can't afford a spread for the whole school."
"Of course you can't."
"I think I'll have Luke and Sam, and maybe Gus and Chip."
As the boys drew closer to the school Ben had to stop to fix his shoe. Both sat down on some rocks, at a turn in the road. They were about to go on again when somebody made the turn of the road, coming from the town. It was Nat Poole.
"Hello! you been to town?" cried Ben, good-naturedly.
"Yes," answered the money-lender's son. "Haven't I a right to go if I want to?" he added, and then hurried on ahead of them.
"Rather peppery," mused Ben. "Say, Phil, there is one fellow you won't invite, and I know it."
"Right you are, Ben," was the ready answer. "All I ask of Nat Poole is, that he leave me alone."
But Nat was not to leave Phil alone, as events were quickly to prove.
CHAPTER XIII
THE CABIN ON THE ISLAND
"Dave, come on out for a row. You haven't been on the river this year."
It was Gus Plum who spoke. He was out in one of the craft belonging to Oak Hall, and hailed our hero as the latter was strolling along the river-bank.
"All right, Gus!" Dave cried, cheerily. "I don't know but that a try at the oars will do me good, after the hard studying I've been doing."
"You are bound to get a high-water mark this term, aren't you?" went on Gus Plum, as he brought the rowboat up to the dock, so that Dave might get in.
"I'd like to graduate with honor, yes."
"What are you going to do after you leave here, Dave?" went on the big youth, as the two rowed up the river.
"I don't know yet. Have you made up your mind?"
"Oh, I think I'll go into business, but I am not sure."
"You won't try for college?"
"No. You see, I don't make much of a fist at learning, so what's the use? But I love business--buying and selling things."
The two boys continued at the oars until the vicinity of Oak Hall was left far behind.
"If we only had a power-boat we might run up to Squirrel Island," remarked Gus.
"Perhaps Nat Poole will lend you his motor-boat," suggested our hero, with a little grin.
"Humph! I'd not ask him," returned the big youth, promptly. "I am done with Nat Poole. I want to stick to my new friends." And the former bully of the school fairly beamed on Dave, who had done so much to make him reform.
"Have you seen the motor-boat this season, Gus?"
"Yes, Nat got it out two days ago. I think he is on the river now."
The boys rowed on, until they came to a bend where there was something of a cove. As they rounded the point they heard the steady put-put! of a gasoline engine not far off.
"There is Nat's craft now!" cried our hero, and pointed ahead.
"He's all alone," was Plum's comment. "He can't have many friends these days, or he'd have some of them along."
"I'd hate to be without friends, Gus, shouldn't you?"
"Yes, indeed! But it's Nat's own fault. If he'd only drop his important airs and be more sociable, he'd get along all right."
On and on rowed the two students. It was a clear, balmy day, and they hated to return to the school until it was absolutely necessary.
"Let us row around Smith Island," suggested our hero, mentioning a small place in the middle of the stream, so named after a farmer who owned it. It was a rocky and somewhat barren spot, and seldom visited by anybody but fishermen.
"All right, but we want to beware of the rocks," cautioned the big youth.
The rowboat was headed up the stream, and soon they came in sight of the island. On one side were a number of bushes, overhanging the river.
"Hello! look there!" cried Dave, a few minutes later, and pointed to the bushes.
"What do you see?"
"A motor-boat. I think it is Nat Poole's."
"Is that so? What brought him here?" questioned Gus, with interest.
"I am sure I don't know. But it's his boat, I am sure of that," went on Dave, after another look at the craft.
"See anything of Nat?"
"No, the boat is empty."
"Let us row in a little closer and see what he is doing," suggested Gus.
"He'll say we were spying on him."
"Humph! Haven't we as much right as he has to visit the island?"
"Of course."
"Then what is the use of keeping away? He may be waiting to play some trick, or something like that."
"Oh, I think not, Gus. Probably he just visited the island out of curiosity. But I'll go in if you say so."
Slowly, so as to avoid the many rocks in that vicinity, the two students brought the rowboat close up to the motor-craft. They looked into the bushes and along the rocks beyond, but saw nothing of Nat.
"Shall we call to him?" asked Gus.
"What for? I don't want to see him."
"Neither do I. His boat is tied good and fast. He must expect to stay on the island quite a while."
The two boys rowed on, past the motor-boat. Then, as they turned a point of rocks, Dave gave a start.
"Well, of all things!"
"What is it, Dave?"
"Look