Part 20 (2/2)

”Pooh! so are you!” scoffed Jess. ”More than likely he is some lazy fisherman who did not want to go to the store--some rich fellow from the city.”

”If Liz knows what she is talking about,” said Laura, ”it _is_ a rich fellow from Albany. A Mr. Norman. And she told me last night that he was a great fisherman and hunter.

”But what under the sun,” demanded Bobby, ”should he take our food for?”

”You can't tell me it is anything as simple as that,” Lil Pendleton declared. ”He is a thief, just the same. And it as dangerous for us to be on this island with him. Why! I wouldn't stay another night--unless the boys were here to defend us.”

”Ah! the cat is out of the bag,” chuckled Bobby. ”Lil wants Purt over here with his revolver,” and then the other girls laughed and Lil got mad again.

CHAPTER XIII

THE SEARCH OF THE ISLAND

Laura dressed in a hurry and ran out with the flags. She took a slip of paper with her on which Chet had marked down the code, to refresh her memory, and at once stood out upon a high boulder and began to wave the ”call flag.”

Without the gla.s.ses she could not see what the boys were doing about their camp; but Jess came with the best pair of binoculars, and soon told her that the boys were evidently in much excitement. Chet appeared with _his_ flags, and brother and sister carried on a silent conversation for some ten minutes.

”No, girls,” Laura said, seriously, when she came down from the rock and led the way to the breakfast table. ”Chet a.s.sures me none of the boys have been over here. They were coming right after breakfast, anyway, and will come in the powerboats.”

”They know nothing about our loss, and Chet is impressed with the seriousness of the affair. I wouldn't let him think we were scared at all, but asked to borrow a boat so as to get more provisions.”

”No! I should say not!” exclaimed Jess. ”After what they said about our calling them, when they left us the other night, we don't want to give then a chance to laugh at us.”

”Who'll go for the provisions to this Crossing you speak of?” asked Nellie.

”Oh, a couple of the boys. The others will help us search the island,”

Laura said, cheerfully.

”Make out a list of what is needed, Laura,” advised Mrs. Morse, as she retired to her typewriter. ”And be sure to get a bottle of peroxide.

It's good for cuts, or mosquito bites, or any poison.”

Not long after breakfast the two powerboats, the _d.u.c.h.ess_ and the _Bonnie La.s.s_, were seen approaching. All the boys had come, and they were all very curious as to the raid that had been made upon the girls' pantry.

Purt Sweet had seemingly been transformed in the two days he had been ”roughing it” in camp. He still wore the green knickerbockers, and the long stockings. The belt with its hunting-knife scabbard, was about his waist. And there was a suspicious bunch under his waistband that announced the presence of the ancient revolver.

However, Purt's mother would not have known his clothing, so stained, torn and bedraggled did his garments appear. The boys had made him do his share of the camp work. Chopping wood had made his palms blister, sparks had snapped out of the fires he had made and burned holes in his clothes, and hot fat snapping from the skillet had left red marks on his hands and face.

Having fun in camp was the hardest work Purt Sweet had ever done; but he was ashamed to ”kick” about it before the girls. He came ash.o.r.e to a.s.sure Lil Pendleton that he would do his best to find and punish the marauders who had raided the camp on the island.

”Whether the fellow paid for what he got, or not,” Chet said, seriously, when he had heard the particulars, ”we want to know if he is still here, and what he means by such actions.”

”We must know that he _isn't_ here, or I sha'n't want to stay,”

declared Nellie Agnew, who was really very timid.

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