After Charles Hardy had joined the "Rovers" band, which was composed of the original Bunkers, with others whom Tim had collected together, his conscience proved less troublesome. The first wrong step taken, the second follows with less compunction, and so on, till the moral sense is completely blunted.

At the meeting he was informed by Tim that he had been admitted to the society on account of his knowledge of boats. They could not get along without such a fellow; and he was accordingly appointed "master of marine," and second in command to Tim himself. These honors and compliments reconciled him to the society of the Rovers, and he began to exhibit his energy of purpose in directing the details of the next week's operations.

Saturday was appointed as the day for stocking the island with provisions and other necessaries, ready for the reception of the entire party on Sunday night. Tim and Charles were to attend to this duty in person.

"Meet me at eight o'clock in the morning over by Joe Braman's landing,
Charley, and—"

"But school keeps; I can't go till afternoon."

"And then the Zephyrs will see what we are about."

"I can't help it."

"Yes you can; can't you 'hook Jack'?"

"I dare not."

"Humph! You are an idiot! Tell the fellows to-morrow that you are going over to your uncle's, and they will tell the master."

Charles consented, after some argument.

"I will get Joe's boat, and we can pull off to the island and get the money."

"Where will you buy the things?"

"We must go down to Rippleton. You must get some, and I will get some. We will buy them at different stores, so no one will know but what they are for the folks."

"And the tent?"

"We will get a piece of cotton cloth for that, and some needles and thread. Leave all that to me. Now, be on hand in season."

"One thing, Tim: I may be seen in Rippleton."

"No matter if you are. Bluff 'em off if they say anything."

The Rovers were to "rendezvous"—Tim had found this word in the "Adventures of the Bold Buccaneer"—at nine o'clock on Sunday evening at the wood. The arrangements were all completed, and the band dispersed.

On Saturday Charles was true to his appointment, and met Tim on the north side of the lake. The money was procured, and the provisions were safely deposited in the boat. It is true, Charles was so much embarrassed that he well-nigh betrayed the existence of the plot to the shopkeepers; and he was very glad when this part of the business was done.

Then a new difficulty presented itself. Suppose the Zephyrs should visit Center Island that afternoon and discover the stores! They had not thought of this before, and the risk was too great to be incurred. They decided to conceal their stores on the main shore till night, and then carry them off. A convenient place was found for this purpose, and the articles were landed.

They then repaired to the island to mature their plans.

"Now, where shall we pitch the tent?" asked Charles, when they landed.

"On the high ground near the beach."

"We have no poles. Here is the May-pole; that will do for one."

"We can't pitch the tent, soldier fashion. We must drive down four forked stakes; then put poles on the forks, and cover the whole with cloth."

"But where are the stakes and the poles?"

"We can cut them in the woods. We will get Joe Braman's ax, and do it this forenoon."

"Suppose they should make a raft, and come off to us?" suggested
Charles.

"We have two fast boats, and can easily keep out of their way," replied
Tim. "If they want to fight we can beat them off."

Charles did not approve of fighting, and thought it would be bad policy. Tim was tolerably tractable now that he was having his own way, and was not very strenuous in support of his own pugnacious views. When their plans were fully digested they left the island to prepare the stakes. Before noon they separated, and the truant returned home about the usual time.

That afternoon he joined the Zephyrs in an excursion up the lake, and another lighthouse was erected in the vicinity of a dangerous reef.

"What shall we do next week?" asked Charles, as they were returning home.

"We are going up the river," replied Frank. "My father has consented to it."

"Has he? That will be first rate."

"And so has George Weston."

Charles relapsed into deep thought. He was thinking how much better he could enjoy himself with good boys than with such fellows as the Rovers; for, though he was "master of marine" among them, he could not help acknowledging to himself that they were not pleasant companions. They used profane and vulgar language; were always disposed to quarrel. Disputes which were settled peaceably in the clubs were decided by a fight among the Rovers; and the ambitious "master" had many misgivings as to his ability to control them. Tim could manage them very well; for, if one was turbulent, he struck him and knocked him down; and Charles had not the brute courage to do this.

"What are you thinking about, Charley?" asked Frank, pleasantly.

"Nothing," replied Charles, promptly, as he tried to laugh.

"You act rather queerly this afternoon; just as though you had something on your mind."

"O, no; nothing of the kind."

"I hope you don't regret the expulsion of Tim Bunker."

"Certainly not."

............