This afternoon, as Teresa twanged at her banjo strings, she looked oftener than was good for her music at the group of men who were at work in the evergreen cabin.
So far they had only started the removal of the old boards.
When this was concluded the Girl Scouts had determined to organize the searching parties among themselves. Mr. Hammond would join them; no one else was supposed to feel a sufficiently keen interest in the investigation to be allowed to take part.
In spite of her music Teresa observed Lance McClain coming toward the Girl Scout camp when he was still some distance away. He was not wearing his Scout uniform as might have been expected.
Even at a distance Lance appeared unlike the other boys. He was smaller than a number of them, more slender and graceful. He had a peculiar carriage of the head. He seemed to bend forward slightly and yet his eyes were nearly always upturned. He apparently did not look at the objects directly in front of him.
“Hello, Lance, I am awfully glad to see you! I was feeling dull,” Teresa called out. “How did you happen to walk over to camp and not be wearing your uniform? Miss Mason is lying down in her tent; if you like I’ll tell her you are here and then you can stay and talk to me, or else I’ll play to you.”
Lance made a funny grimace.
“Thanks awfully, Teresa, but I want to see Dorothy for a special reason. I can’t stay long. I wonder if you will tell me where I can find her?”
Teresa frowned.
“I thought you always claimed to be fond of music, Lance, so I don’t see why you need be in such a hurry.”