"Just after we went to Camp Liberty when Will traced the German spy," Betty reminded her. "Did you ever see prettier detective work in your life?"
"Yes, it was splendid," Mollie admitted, but the reference proved to be an unfortunate one. It brought back vividly the picture of Will as he had been then, at the height of his triumph over the apprehension of the spy—in which the Outdoor Girls had also played an important part—and jubilant at the prospect of being able to join the colors at last and fight in the army of democracy.
Try as they would, they could not enter into the fun as they would have done a few weeks before. They swam about languidly and found to their surprise that they became quickly and easily tired.
"I never knew before how much influence mind has over matter," said Mollie, after they had come out on the beach again. "I declare, even my muscles feel depressed!"
"As Outdoor Girls we're getting to be marvelous failures," remarked Grace, as she wrung the water from her skirt and plumped down in the sand. "I feel as weak as a rag."
"I guess it isn't much use trying to enjoy ourselves," sighed Betty plaintively. "I've done my best, but all the time I feel as if I were just trying to kid myself, in the vulgar vernacular."
"For goodness sake, don't you give up, Betty!" cried Grace, in alarm. "If you get discouraged, then I don't know what we shall do."
"I'm not really discouraged—" Betty began, when a terrified cry cut her short and the girls sprang to their feet bewildered.
"Where is it?" cried Mollie, but Betty caught her arm and pointed with shaking fingers to an orange-colored cap bobbing on the water several hundred feet from shore.
"It's Amy!" she gasped. "Something must have happened. Come on, girls! Who's going with me?"