“Oh, we’ll find out!” the boys threatened.
“We’ll go over the same trail to-morrow,” added Jack.
“Then it will be time enough to tell you,” remarked Mrs. Bonnell calmly.
A little later they were at the cove, and safely in the motor-boat, puffing across the lake, the red and green lights making shimmering jewels in the water. It was raining quite hard now, but the boys had some pieces of tarpaulin, with which the engine was covered nights, since there was no boat house. These stiff canvases the girls used to put over their shoulders, though they were pretty well wet through as it was.
“Oh, be it ever so cheerless there’s no place like camp!” cried Mabel, as they reached the place of the tents. “I’m nearly starved.”
“Well, you girls just get some dry things on,” directed her brother, “and we’ll make a ripping old fire, and have tea for you in a jiffy. Where do you keep the grub, anyhow?”
“I’ll show you,” said Mrs. Bonnell, and soon the boys, with occasional laughter and gibes at the girls, were making a simple meal ready, while the camp fire, built from some wood stored under a strip of canvas to keep it dry, sent out its cheerful blaze.
“Oh, and to think how miserable we were an hour ago!” sighed Natalie as she sipped the tea and ate some cakes, which, in lieu of sandwiches, the boys had served.
“It was lovely of you to come for us,” said Marie. “And you didn’t find the Gypsies after all?”
“No; I don’t believe they’re even in this neighborhood,” declared Blake. “If they were they skipped out since the pocket-book was taken. Have some more tea, Mrs. Bonnell?”