It was after ten o’clock when Miss Phillips and Ethel finally dragged their canoe upon the shore where the rest of the scouts were camping. In answer to their call the girls all appeared at once. But they did not need to ask the news; the failure to find Marjorie and Frieda was plainly written on the countenance of the searchers.

Lily Andrews, who had forced herself to keep cheerful all day long in spite of her increasing fears, broke down at the captain’s first words, and sobbed uncontrollably.

“Not a trace!” sighed Miss Phillips from the depths of a disconsolate weariness.

“I just know they have been drowned!” wailed Lily.

“No, I don’t think that,” replied the captain; “they are too good swimmers.”

“Tell us all about it!” begged Alice, also beginning to cry.

“No—wait!” protested Frances, gently. “Remember Captain Phillips and Ethel must be starved, and so tired. Come and eat first; we have something137 nice all ready for you. Then, when you’re both a little bit rested you can tell us the whole story.”

Miss Phillips gave Frances a grateful look, and the whole party went to the tents, where a bright fire was burning.

“It was lovely of you to wait up for us,” said Miss Phillips, taking the tin plate Doris handed her.

“We couldn’t any of us have slept a wink till you did come,” said Ruth. “We were so excited and worried.”

The two ate silently while Ruth and Doris aimed to keep up the spirits of the party by relating some of the trifling incidents of the day. Miss Phillips finished her tea and turned to the girls.

“There unfortunately isn’t much to tell,” she said sadly; and then proceeded to relate her conversation with the woman at the farm-house.

“We took her advice,” she continued, “and made the portage which she suggested. It was a short cut—possibly it saved us a mile or so. Then we went very slowly, looking everywhere for a canoe, and calling at intervals, and whistling the troop call. Once we saw two girls in the woods and our hearts fairly stopped beating; but when they came nearer we realized they did not look anything like our girls. Then, as soon as it got dark, we went faster, calling the girls’ names, however, as we went along. Twice we stopped people—farmers—to ask if they had seen anything of the girls, but we got no information.

138 “And so you see our only hope lies in what the woman reported that the girls said—that they would press on and try to beat us to Silvertown. I devoutly hope that is the case; but I am inclined to doubt it, for it somehow does not sound like Marjorie Wilkinson.”

“But, Captain,” put in Ruth, “Marj really isn’t such a saint, even though you think she is. I’ve known her to play jokes on people before, particularly when it is sort of like a game, as this is, and wouldn’t harm anybody.”

“But it harms me!” sobbed Lily. “I’m scared to death about her.”

“No, Lily, don’t be that!” urged Miss Phillips; “we mustn’t give up yet!”

“And don’t forget,” added Ruth, “that Frieda Hammer’s with Marj—and the whole idea may be hers.”

They discussed the matter with animation for a little while. Ruth could hardly keep down an exuberance of feeling, she was so delighted in knowing that her plan was working. She had, however, one dreadful scare, a contingency which she had never once thought of. It was Ethel Todd who suggested it.

“Captain Phillips,” she said, “in case the girls have been delayed by a leak or an accident of some sort, and are not at Silvertown, couldn’t we postpone the meet until Saturday?”

139 Ruth became white to the lips. Suppose her whole scheme should fall through for such a reason, and after so much success! In the moment that elapsed while Miss Phillips considered the proposition, she suffered agonies. But at last the answer came—and relieved her.

“I wish we might,” she said, rising; “but there are so many events planned at Silvertown that if we want the lake and an audience we have to ask for a date months ahead. No,” she concluded sadly, “the thing will have to go on—unless—of course——”

“No! No! Don’t say it, Captain!” cried Lily, in distress, “Let’s believe nothing dreadful could happen!”

“I hope not,” Miss Phillips replied. “Suppose we turn in now, girls, so we can get an early start to-morrow.”

“And see Marj and Frieda and Silvertown all at once!” exclaimed Ruth; and the cheerful tone of her words brought a ray of hope to those less optimistic.

Miss Phillips had expected that, in accordance with their schedule, they might reach Silvertown by Saturday night. But this, of course, was now impossible; and a wire on Sunday morning preceded them to announce their arrival for five o’clock.

All day long they paddled steadily. At first they seemed silent and rather depressed; but as they140 neared Silvertown their excitement increased, and they grew more and more hopeful of finding their lost companions. It was Ruth Henry who encouraged this spi............