Nancy sighed aloud, Dell did not try very hard to hide her own impatience and Gar protested openly.
“If we find her this time I think we ought to lock her up,” he said, not entirely in jest.
“I—am ashamed of her,” admitted Nancy. “But she really didn’t do this. She actually blamed Orilla for her tumble in the lake,” she recalled.
“That’s probably why,” declared Gar, “the orang-utan is now getting even.”
“Well, we’ll just try the other side of the oaks,” proposed Dell, “then, we had better try some place else.”
The little island covered only a small strip of land, which was made an island by a blade of the lake water that cut it away from another strip of land. To explore the entire territory took but a short time, and now the scouting party were scurrying down the other side of the summit, looking for the truants along the water front at that point.
“Someone has been here lately,” Gar declared, as he kicked over a small stone furnace. “This always was a favorite spot for campers, you know, Dell.”
“Yes.” She surveyed the charred stones. “But our campers haven’t been here. That stuff is old.”
“Don’t you think we had better shout again?” suggested Nancy. “I’m afraid Margot will be scared to death, although I did call something to her about going to the Point.”
“Doesn’t it beat the chickens!” murmured Gar. “Just imagine us hunting for those girls like a couple of lost—kids. Makes me think of our picnics long ago when I was the star for getting lost.”