After much banter over very unscientific names, Phyl said, “Give me a little time, professor. I’ll think of something.”
Meanwhile, the Sunspot was plowing gracefully forward through the sparkling blue waters of Lake
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Carlopa. The enjoyable cruise drew to an end as the four young people neared the north shore of the lake. The beach where they were to hold their picnic was at the end of a long cove, sheltered by pine-clad hills. Parties of other bathers and picnickers dotted the rocks and dunes.
“Shallow water ahead, BudI” Sandy warned. “We’ll have to anchor here and row through the cove in the dinghy.”
The anchor was run out. Then the little row-boat was placed in the water.
Everyone climbed in and Bud took the oars.
As they neared the shore, the Swifts and their friends were greeted by whoops and yells. A group of their friends came running down to the water’s edge. Among them, looking oddly out of place, was a familiar, bowlegged figure wearing a white chef’s cap and a wild-looking sport shirt of flame orange and purple.
“Chow!” Tom yelled and Bud grinned.
“Chow volunteered to be head chef for our beach party,” Sandy explained.
“And we all planned the surprise.”
“Boy, what a swell welcome!” Bud exclaimed.
“It’s great!” Tom added.
After the greetings, the entire group went swimming, then played a lively game of softball on the beach. Finally, just before dusk, the hungry picnickers gathered around the glowing embers of
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Chow’s cook fire as he prepared a feast of sizzling steaks. Appetizers, rolls, salad, ice cream, and Thermos jugs of lemonade were produced from various hampers.