“I know you condemn yourself, Ruthie, all right,” returned Agnes. “But I do not think you are always just. See how you blamed yourself for our going to Carrie Poole’s dance and getting cold. One would never think we ever had a cold now! You are as brown as a berry and I am positively getting fat.”
“I am not so sure that I am to be the less condemned for our having foolishly taken chances with our health back home. If it hadn’t been for that we should not be in this situation, that is sure.”
“Goodness! You are unreasonable, I think,” murmured Agnes, and said no more at the time.
She insisted, however, upon stealing up the hill to the foot of the palm tree and gazing off across the sea to the east in the hope of seeing some sign of their friends. Ruth could not restrain Agnes from doing this every couple of hours.
The binoculars had been left with them, and Agnes scanned sharply every observable foot of the nearest island. The spot where the Isobel lay was around on the far side, however; and what had become of the raft was as great a mystery to the girls.
About noon she came hurriedly back to Ruth, however, and told her that the thing that had been fluttering so long from the top of the palm tree on that other island was gone.
“Blown away?” remarked Ruth thoughtfully.
“I don’t think so. The wind is not blowing very hard. I wish I had sat right up there and kept the glasses on that tree. I might have seen something.”
“Do you suppose it was removed by Guardy or the boys?”
“Why not? If it was put up by Tess and Dot——”