“Before dark,” added Mabel.
“My! but we’ve had a full day!” declared Alice. “But we found the Gypsy camp.”
“And a lot of good it did us,” said Marie. “We didn’t locate the girl we wanted.”
“Oh, the police can do that,” said Mrs. Bonnell. “We’ll tell them where the camp is, and the constables can look after the suspects.”
With a last glance at the old mill, which seemed silent and deserted enough now, and a parting look at the disappearing wagon, the Camp Fire Girls made their way to where they had left their boats. Soon they were rowing over the peaceful lake, which the setting sun was painting in hues of vermillion, olive and yellow.
“Isn’t it beautiful,” said Natalie softly, as she hummed a few strains of “The Land of the Sky-blue Water.” “Beautiful!”
“And to think of the old mill and—” began Marie.
“Don’t,” suggested Alice. “Let’s enjoy the sunset.”
Silently they rowed onward, their faces to the glorious colors in the west.
“Wo-he-lo! Wo-he-lo!” suddenly called Marie, as they neared the shore. “Wo-he-lo!”