“We are as friendly as she will let us be,” said Cleo frankly. “But we can’t really promise anything. We must run. The girls will think we are lost,” and giving faithful Shag a parting pat they ran off to overtake the hiking party.
“Isn’t that queer?” exclaimed Grace. She had snatched up a bunch of wild flowers for her delay alibi.
“Very suspicious, I should say,” returned Cleo. “And of course, if we meet Peg we are bound to tell her.”
“I think we should,” agreed Grace. “There must be some reason for that girl’s change of manner, and I’m sure it can’t be anything that would benefit Peg.”
“No, and her name is Leonore Fairbanks,” said Cleo. “Rather pretty. There, the girls are waiting for us.”
No explanation for the delay seemed necessary and the interrupted hike was presently doing double time over the fragrant by-paths. Of course the tardy ones would tell the story quickly as an opportunity came up.
The top of the hill was reached at last, and from that point the view of the lake and its surroundings lay like a panorama spread out on a silky canvas. It was well worth hiking for, and the Bobbies were breathless in admiration. They scampered from one rock to another, each claiming a superior view until this feature took on the proportions of a new outdoor game.
To the right was a dense evergreen forest; small tiered mountains to the left. They stood in a rocky gorge between this and Big Nose Rock. Presently the whinnying of a horse startled the little sightseers. Then Julia called out from her perch on a big flat stone:
“Look, girls! Up on the rock! There’s Peg! What can she be doing away up there?”
All eyes turned to the highest point, and there, like some wild thing of the mountains, stood Peg. She was hatless, and in the usual brown riding outfit. As if the call had reached her, although distance made this impossible, she turned suddenly, threw her head up in a listening attitude, then with a quick move that had in it the impatience of a disappointment, she vanished in the rocks.