“I believe you’re right,” agreed Dorothy, but when they had gone at least half a mile down the gorge, and the irrepressible Tavia had not overtaken them, Dorothy began frequently to look back.
“What do you suppose she is doing?” she repeated, greatly puzzled.
“Oh, she is up to something. You know Tavia,” responded Ned, carelessly.
At last Dorothy said: “I’m going back. I am worried about Tavia.”
“Nonsense!” cried Nat. “She’s gone back to join mother, I bet you.”
“Betting never proved anything yet, little boy,” laughed Dorothy. “You boys can go on if you like. But it’s no fun without Tavia.”
She started back briskly; the boys started more slowly. “Huh!” grunted Nat, “Tavia isn’t often a ‘spoil sport.’ I don’t see what’s gotten into her to-day.”
Dorothy did not run, but she lost no time and was some distance ahead of her cousins when she came in sight of the rocks where Tavia had seated herself.
Her chum was still there. When Dorothy shouted to her Tavia did not look her way. The rock was a low, flat-topped boulder with a crack across the middle of it. Tavia seemed to be looking at something before her on the rock.
“What have you found there, Tavia?” cried Dorothy. “It must be something tremendously interesting.”