"Yes. And I thought you looked like Maggie, then."
"Isn't this Maggie one of you?" sharply demanded the stranger.
"She's a girl whom—whom I know," Ruth said quickly. "A really nice girl. And you do look like her. Doesn't she, Helen?"
"Why—yes—something like," drawled Helen.
"And did you have to come out here to see if I were your friend?" asked the other girl.
"When I saw the campfire—yes," Ruth admitted. "It seemed so strange, you know."
"What seemed strange?" demanded the girl, very tartly. It was plain that she considered their visit an intrusion.
"Why, think of it yourself," Ruth cried, while Helen sniffed audibly. "A girl camping alone on this island—and in a snowstorm."
"It isn't snowing now," said the girl, smiling grimly.
"But it was when we saw the fire at first," Ruth hastened to say. "You know yourself you would be interested."