Indignation filled her heart. But what could she do? Alone on that water, and that man so near with his gun!
Fortunately, he was so interested in looking at his game that he thought it not worth while to look at whoever might be passing in the skiff; so, once more, Dorothy slid out of danger down the placid stream.
In all her trouble she had kept the little watch and her compass, and just now it occurred to her that by consulting the magnetic instrument she could tell whether she was going in the direction of Everglade.
She paused in her action to look at the trembling needle.
"Yes, I am going toward camp—due east."
How lightly she paddled along! It seemed now that the sanitarium was past finding, for the noise of the bell and the whistle had ceased, and that everything, even the talking of the man to himself as he pulled the deer over his shoulders, was gone, and Dorothy was all alone on the delightful lake, moving toward camp. It all seemed like some horrible dream—all but the thought that she was going back—back to her dear ones, who must be so anxious.
"I hope I have saved poor Miss Bell," she thought. "That girl seemed to dread something more than the mere mistake in taking me in instead of the other patient."
She slowed up, to gather some water lilies. "I'll take them to Cologne," she thought. "I wonder where the girls are? I suppose scouring the country for me. Well, Tavia must have been found, at any rate. Poor foolish Tavia! I hope they have not blamed her."
A gentle swish of the water startled her. She turned to see two canoes approaching!
"Are they after me?" she thought, and her heart jumped. "I must have some excuse ready if they question me. I will just say I am from Camp Capital, and have come out for exercise. They may not know how far away our camp is."