"Five days marooned¹ on an island? Five days fighting mosquitoes? Well, well, boys, you have had a time of it, sure enough. You're almost as brown as Indians—every one of you."  
Mr. Wingate was pacing the floor of a room in the Badger² State Hotel. He glanced with an amused look from one to another of the nine boys who sat or stood around the room.
 
The boys had met with some strange experiences.
 
"Crusoe Island," as Nat had named it, was quite a distance from the track of boats, the Clair Bay line of steamers passing so far away as to be scarcely visible. It was not inhabited, and even fishing boats rarely came to its shores.
 
The boys, thanks to the strange kindness of the "honest man" who stole, were well provided with food. They found game very scarce, and, indeed, there was little to be said in favor of the island. Swampy³ pools, wild, desolate⁴ expanses of meadows stretched along the shore, while back of these were areas of sand and rocks. The spot on which the boys had happened to land was about the best part of the entire place.
 
They made every effort to attract the attention of the few boats which were seen, and, after five weary days, most of which were spent in fighting mosquitoes, succeeded.
 
Bob Somers, waving a huge cloth attached to a pole, attracted the attention of a couple of fishermen.
 
Arrangements were made to take them to the mainland, where they camped out over night. Then the boys took a train at a small station some miles away and rode back to Clair Bay, reaching that town early in the morning.
 
They were heavily laden⁵ with their camping outfits⁶, and it was a weary lot of boys that trudged⁷ up to the Badger State Hotel.
 
"My uncle told me he was going to stay here for a couple of weeks," said Nat; "I hope we shall find him in."
 
Mr. Wingate seemed to take the loss of the motor boat very calmly.
 
"It wasn't your fault, boys, I know," he went on; "still—and I speak to all of you—I think you had better return to Kingswood with me this afternoon. Let me see, there's a train at 4:15. Your parents must be very much worried about you."
 
"I'd like to stay here a while," ventured John Hackett.
 
The proposition did not seem to please Mr. Wingate at all. His affable expression for an instant vanished.
 
"I don't approve of that," he said, tersely⁸. "You have earned a most unenviable notoriety. Listen to this!"
 
Walking over to a table, he picked up a newspaper and began to read an article.
 
It told about the affair with Douglass Brown, and pictured the actions of the Nimrods in a most unfavorable light. The destruction of the "Rambler" was also mentioned.
 
"This account closes with the following words," said Mr. Wingate, emphatically; "'We question the judgment⁹ of parents in allowing boys to indulge in such a dangerous pastime as motor-boating.' You can see, boys, that such publicity¹⁰ is decidedly unpleasant."
 
There was no reply, and Mr. Wingate continued, "I am sure that Mr. Somers would prefer to have you return."
 
"I knew we'd have to go back," whispered Nat in Bob Somers' ear.
 
"Did you?" responded Bob, dryly.
 
"Then we leave at 4:15, Uncle Parsons?"
 
"Exactly! Boys, you will kindly¹¹ be ready in time."
 
"I'm not going back, Mr. Wingate," said Bob, quietly.
 
"What! Not going back?" echoed the gentleman, in considerable surprise. "I think it is only due to your parents, Robert, that you should return."
 
"My father will get a letter from me to-morrow morning," said Bob; "he expects us to visit his land in Michigan."
 
"Now, Robert, don't be stubborn. If your father consents, it would be a very easy matter for you to start out again."
 
Mr. Wingate's tone was mild and pleasant.
 
"That's so, Somers; you might as well go with us," chimed in Nat.
 
But Bob shook his head.
 
"I appreciate your kindness, Mr. Wingate," he said, "and I only hope you'll excuse me."
 
"It can't be that you are sensitive on the subject? I wouldn't have you think that I am reflecting on your ability to take care of yourself."
 
"No, sir!" replied Bob, with a smile. "But when I once start out on a thing I hate to give up."
 
"Very commendable¹² indeed, in certain cases. But sometimes older heads are wiser."
 
"I don't doubt that, sir!"
 
"At any rate, your friends will see the wisdom of my course?" said Mr. Wingate, glancing at the Ramblers interrogatively.
 
"I think I'll go with Bob," replied Dave Brandon, slowly.
 
"So will I," added Sam.
 
And each in turn, apparently¹³ to Mr. Wingate's annoyance¹⁴, announced a similar determination.
 
"Boys, boys!" said the gentleman, raising his hands, "I certainly am disappointed."
 
"Can't I go with them, uncle?" asked Nat, meekly¹⁵.
 
"Most certainly not! All of the Nimrods must return with me."
 
John Hackett, wearing an extremely sour expression, ventured to protest, but Mr. Wingate shook his head.
 
"I shall insist th............