“Do you think you can go to Tower and return here before sunset, Blue Wolf?” There was a dubious inflection in Miss Drexal’s voice, as she addressed her question to the guide.

“Go alone, go fast,” assured the Indian. “Come back plenty time ’fore him sundown. You walk around island, any place. No ’fraid. You get lost, me find. Me know him. Now go quick an’ come back.” Suiting the action to the word, he made a lithe spring into his canoe and prepared to push off from shore.

“We’ll all be here when you come for us,” predicted Ruth gaily. “Such good foresters as we can be trusted to find our way anywhere.”

Blue Wolf met this sally with an approving “Ugh!” Then the canoe shot through the placid water, alive under his practiced hands.

“We might as well eat luncheon and have it over with,” said Miss Drexal, as the watchers on the bank lost sight of the guide around a bend. “Shall we eat it here, or have it in the woods?”

“This seems to be a good enough place,” commented Marian. “We can gather enough dry wood right around here for a fire to make the coffee. As long as we haven’t brought much except sandwiches, sweet crackers and fruit, it won’t take long to get it ready. Only one thing is needed—water.”

“There’s a little spring just back in the woods,” informed Emmy. “Blue Wolf told us about it, didn’t he, Betty? He landed us here so we’d be near it.”

“Let’s all go and look for it,” proposed Sarah. “I’m terribly thirsty.”

“Now that you mention it, Sarey, so am I,” beamed Frances. “Lead us to it, Emmy, provided you know how. I’m going to leave my pack here, and take only my drinking cup.”

Frances’ announcement caused a general shedding of packs. Each forester being provided with the individual collapsible drinking cup, Emmy and Betty headed the procession to the spring, Miss Drexal alone electing to remain behind. Ruth brought up the rear with a good-sized white enamel pitcher, which was to hold the water necessary to the coffee-making.

Less than a hundred yards straight into the woods from the point where they had landed, they came upon the spring. Even that short distance proved not especially easy going. From the shore of the lake the ground was rough and rocky, and sloped gradually upward. There was also plenty of dry underbrush, which crackled and snapped under their invading feet as they went. The object of their search proved to be a mere trickle of clear water, flowing from between rocks into a tiny natural hollow in the earth.

Due to its aggravatingly-slow flow, it took some minutes to obtain sufficient water to quench the thirst of the explorers, who impatiently waited for each other’s cups to be filled.

“It will take all day to fill that pitcher,” observed Jane as Ruth held it under the tiny crystal thread of water.

“Then go ahead and don’t wait for me. While I’m filling it, you can get the firewood together and help Miss Drexal. I’ll stay here by my lonesome and commune with Nature,” laughed Ruth. “There’s no danger of my getting lost as long as I am within hearing of you noisy persons.”

“I was going to offer to stay and console you, but not after that cruel cut,” asserted Frances. “I’d rather go with the crowd and be a ‘Wood Gatherer.’ I’ll console Plain Jane instead. What shall I say to thee, heart of my heart?” she inquired, peering languishingly at her usual victim. “Dost wish to argue, Janie?”

“No, I don’t, you ridiculous goose,” retorted Jane.

“This pitcher will be full before you even make a start,” teased Ruth.

“Come on, she wants to get rid of us,” accused Sarah.

“How did you guess it?” dimpled Ruth. “Run along, children. I’ll be right at your heels.”

With a parting shot from Jane, “Our room is better than our company,” the girls left Ruth to herself. Though Blanche had accompanied them, she had not once opened her lips. Stolidly mute, she had filled her cup, drunk a little water and pettishly thrown the remainder of it into the bushes. As she turned to leave the spring, she purposely dropped behind the others, followed them a few steps, then swung about and went back to Ruth.

Her eyes fixed on the nearly full pitcher, Ruth almost let it fall from her hands when a tense voice assailed her surprised ears: “You talked about me to Jane Pellew when we got out of the canoes! I saw you with your heads together. Then she looked right at me. What did you tell her? If you’ve said a word to her about—”

“I won’t answer your question.” The limit of Ruth’s endurance had been reached. “It’s not worthy of an answer.”

“Then I shall make Jane tell me what you said to her.”

A faintly scornful smile touched Ruth’s firm lips. Very deliberately she said: “You’re ............