"Nat Wingate!" chorused the Ramblers, in astonishment¹.  
"Surprised to see me, eh?" chuckled² the former chief of the Nimrods.
 
He burst into a laugh.
 
"I just lit out," he said; "guess Uncle Parsons will be wild when he finds that I've given him the slip."
 
"I'll bet he will," said Dick.
 
"But it will be nothing to the way that poor old 'Hacky' is going to feel. My, but isn't he in a state of mind! Ha, ha, ha! Just think of the whole crowd being taken back to Kingswood like a parcel of little kids."
 
"Going to let your uncle know you are with us?"
 
"Guess so. Wait till I get a chair, and I'll join the company."
 
"Well, what do you think of this?" whispered Bob.
 
"That he certainly likes our company," said Dave, with a smile. "Still I—"
 
"Look out! Here he comes back," put in Tom.
 
Nat planted his chair in their midst.
 
"I wasn't going to be cheated out of a lot of fun," he proceeded; "and, if Hacky had had any real sand, the whole crowd might be together now. Say—did you notice how he glared when Uncle Parse³ was talking?"
 
At the recollection, Nat began to laugh again.
 
"We've had a queer trip," said Bob; "some mighty⁴ funny things happened."
 
"I should say so. Both boats gone—well, we can have a good time yet. Hacky's got my gun, though," he added, reflectively, as he glanced at those of the Ramblers'.
 
"You're welcome to ours," said the poet laureate.
 
"Thanks! What's on the programme, Somers?"
 
"We are going to Tocono, see a bit of the town, then keep right on."
 
"Will you stay long?"
 
"Oh, a day or two."
 
"Heard that it's a pretty lively place," commented Nat; "no end of things to see. Maybe we'll like it well enough to put in a week."
 
By this time the steamboat was far out in the bay, and the shore was barely discernible on the horizon. The boys, too active to sit still very long, left their seats for a tour of inspection⁵. They visited the engine room, interviewed the engineer, then trooped into the restaurant, where a meal was thoroughly⁶ enjoyed. Nat, by his loud speech and droll⁷ remarks, managed to attract a great deal of attention.
 
About two o'clock, Tocono was sighted.
 
"Biggest town we've seen yet," said Bob, as they approached.
 
"Makes Clair Bay look like a village," declared Nat.
 
Factories of all sorts and warehouses⁸ fronted the bay, while church steeples and a number of towering structures rose above the great mass of buildings beyond.
 
"We ought to have a great time here!" exclaimed Nat, gleefully. "Won't I crow over Hacky when we get back to Kingswood?"
 
Nat pushed forward, and was the first to pass down the gangplank.
 
A wide thoroughfare led along by the bay. It had the usual characteristics of a waterfront street. Irregular rows of buildings crowded between high, gloomy warehouses, ship-chandlers' stores and sail lofts⁹ were prominently in view, while empty casks, sending forth¹⁰ odors of tar¹¹, sugar and other commodities, stood against cellar ways and on the curb¹². The street was crowded with drays and trucks, and altogether presented an interesting sight to the boys.
 
"Kingswood isn't like this, is it?" exclaimed Nat, his eyes flashing with pleasure. "Some life here. Christopher! I'd like to stay a couple of weeks."
 
"Going to a hotel now, Bob?" ventured Tom Clifton.
 
"Might as well," put in Dick; "then we can get washed up a bit, before sallying out to see the sights."
 
They crossed a wide street, dodging¹³ between the vehicles, then turned along it, passed under a railroad bridge, and, at length, reached a busy section of the city.
 
Electric cars whizzed along; on every side there was something of interest to see.
 
At the junction¹⁴ of Main and State Streets, the boys came to a stop.
 
"Which way?" queried¹⁵ Tom Clifton.
 
"Any way," laughed Bob; "feel kind of lost, Tommy?"
 
"Makes a fellow sick of a little place like Kingswood," said Nat.
 
In the course of a half hour, just off the main street, they stopped in front of the Wisconsin House.
 
"Think we are too good for this place?" asked Bob, with a smile.
 
"Maybe they won't take us in, you mean," grinned Nat. "Shoulder arms! Forward march! Charge past the big front door, and we'll soon find out."
 
The boy entered, and walked up to the desk.
 
"Is this a hold up?" asked the clerk, with an amused glance at the array of guns.
 
"Depends on you," Nat glibly¹⁶ answered; "some hotels try it."
 
The clerk laughed.
 
"Can't catch you, young fellow," he said. "What do you want—distinguished guest suite¹⁷?"
 
"That's it," laughed Nat; "and all the good things that go with it."
 
Bob Somers and Sam Randall took one room, Brandon and Travers another, while Nat and Tom Clifton occupied a third.
 
After a general wash-up and glance at the newspapers in the reading-room, the boys started out to see the town.
 
Naturally, the business section, with its big stores and lively appearance, received their first attention.
 
"Fellows," observed Nat, as if with a sudden thought, "I guess I'll scribble¹⁸ a telegram to my uncle. Wait for me here. There's a telegraph office 'cross the street."
 
"Why not write?" asked Bob.
 
"Hate letters! Besides, now I come to think of it, old Uncle Parse may be kind of worried. You see," added Nat, "I left pretty suddenly."
 
"All right, we'll wait," said the poet laureate.
 
"Hurry it up," urged Dick Travers; "supper time will be here before we know it."
 
The former leader of the Nimrods acted with commendable¹⁹ promptness, and the party soon............