"So I am," she answered. "I saw a man's face looking at me. He was hiding behind the bushes."
"Fiddles!" answered Jack. "It was only imagination. Come along with me. I'll carry those plates."
Raymond Fosberton seemed bent on making himself as disagreeable as possible. He was still in a great rage about the broken oar, and lagged behind, refusing to speak to the rest of the party.
"We ought not to let him walk by himself," said Helen, after they had gone about a mile; "it looks as if we wanted to quarrel."
She stopped and turned round, but Raymond was nowhere in sight. They waited, but still he did not appear.
"He can't be far behind," said Valentine. "I heard him kicking stones a moment or so ago."
Jack walked back to the last bend in the road and shouted, but there was no reply.
"It's a rum thing," he said, as he rejoined his companions. "I wonder what has become of the beggar. I thought just then I heard him talking."
The boys shouted again, and Barbara drew a little closer to Jack. Whether the watching face was imagination or not, she had evidently been frightened.
"Surly brute! he has gone home by a short cut," said Jack. "Come along! it's no use waiting."