She approached the "table," an example followed by the others. Certainly Tom had done his work exceedingly well. The spread was very inviting.
Betty looked all around the little glade on the edge of the river, where the table was set. There was no sign of their escort. The Gem floated lazily where she was moored, and the scene was quiet and peaceful enough. But there was a certain mystery about the disappearance of Tom Osborne.
"Well, we may as well eat," sighed Betty. "Then we can look about a bit. There won't be any alligators inland, I guess."
Even the fright the girls had experienced had not taken away their appetites, and soon they were making merry over the meal, which was a bountiful one—they could well trust Aunt Hannah for that.
But "between bites," as it were, Betty and the others looked about for a sign of the young man. He did not appear, however, nor were there any sounds of his approach. The woods back from the river teemed with bird and animal life. The latter was not so visible as the former, for the feathered creatures flitted here and there amid the branches, bursting into various melodious notes.
The meal went on; it was finished. The girls packed up with a little sense of disappointment. They felt that their outing had been rather spoiled. They saved enough for Tom in case he should come back hungry, which would very likely be the case.
"Well, we may as well put things on board," said Betty, at length. "We can't stay here much longer. It's getting late."
"But can we—ought we—go back without Tom?" asked Mollie.
"I don't see what else we can do—if he doesn't come," said Betty. "We can't stay here all night."
The Gem was made ready for the trip back. Then came a time of anxious waiting as the shadows lengthened. Betty, as well as the others, was getting nervous.