“Where in the world were you boys?”

“We’ve been worried to death about you!”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were going to be out all night?”

“My! They look as though they’d slept in a barn!”

Thus the girls greeted the return of—shall I say our three heroes—a little later that morning. They certainly did not feel like heroes, however, as they rowed up to the little dock, and saw the Camp Fire Girls waiting for them on shore.

“Oh, we’ve been off on a little trip,” said Blake.

“You don’t look as though you enjoyed it much, or as if it did you any good,” said Mrs. Bonnell dryly. “Come on now, ’fess up and we’ll forgive you. But we were worried.”

“Why so?” asked Jack, thinking to postpone the explanation.

“Why, Alice had a letter from home on the last mail, and there was some news in it she wanted to tell Blake. We walked over to your camp, and found it deserted. Then some of the boys whom you got to help us search for Natalie, that time, came along and invited us out in their launch.”

“Did you go?” asked Phil.

“Certainly,” said his sister. “And we had a fine dance at the Point. All but poor Natalie—she couldn’t on account of her ankle, and I just know that Harry Morton got up the whole thing on her account.”

“He did not!” protested the blushing Natalie, while Blake looked at her sharply.

“Then, on our way back, we stopped at your camp again,” went on the Guardian, “and you weren’t there. Naturally we were worried. Now—where were you?”

“Oh, just off on a sleuthing expedition,” said Jack airily. “Say, don’t you want to invite us to breakfast?”

“We will if you tell us where you were,” challenged Mabel.

“I think I can guess,” said Natalie.

“Where?”

“In the old mill.”

“How did you—er—guess?” asked Blake.

“He was going to say know—he was going to ask how you knew!” laughed Marie. “Oh, Nat, you hit it!”

“Supposing we were there?” challenged Phil.

“Did you find the ghost?” asked Mrs. Bonnell.

“Phil fell asleep and didn’t keep watch,” said Jack accusingly.

“I didn’t sleep any more than you fellows did. We were all in the same boat,” came from the aggrieved one.

The girls were laughing.

“Better make a clean breast of it,” suggested Marie. “We won’t tell any one else.”

“Do you promise?” asked Blake.

“Sure!” came in a chorus.

“Then, I’ll tell, to get square with Phil for sleeping while that ghost came down, took what remained of our sandwiches, our best lantern, and my knife and match-box.”

“Did it do that?” cried Mabel.

“It sure did!” cried Jack.

“What—what did it look like?” whispered Natalie. “That face I saw——”

“We didn’t see a thing,” declared Blake, “nor hear a thing. I tell you we slept through it all like innocent little babes. The ghost might have carried us off to its den—that is if ghosts have dens—anyhow it could have carried us all off for all of Phil.”

“Say, you quit!” begged the badgered one. “I’m no worse than either of you two. I’ll tell you something, girls.”

And he proceeded to relate how, taking the first watch, he had slumbered through it, but how his chums were equally responsible.

“It’s too bad,” said Marie. “All your work gone for nothing!”

“Oh, we had a good time,” said Blake. “But we’re dead tired now. It was harder work than going fishing.”

“Come on in and we’ll give you some coffee,” invited Natalie and the boys eagerly availed themselves of the chance.