Lola wasn’t the crying kind of a girl. She felt so keenly that it wouldn’t have happened but for her recital of the legend that she was angry with herself and from anger she felt fear and pity for the boys. Then she cried and turned toward the trees that Mr. Wilde and Billy might not see her emotion.
As her eyes were gradually clearing again she saw through the blur—two pair of scout shoes on the ground, right at her feet.
“Look!” she exclaimed, and as the two men turned she picked them up.
It was the last straw as far as Mr. Wilde was concerned; he couldn’t even bear to look and turned away, walking toward the terrace. Billy and Lola followed him heavy-hearted and almost without hope.
“We’ll go right away,” Billy said, “and get around into the forest.”
“I’m going with you then,” Lola said determinedly, “but I’ll run home first and get food and water. They’ll need it and so will we! Wait for me there!”
She was gone and had disappeared on the narrow path winding above the ravine. After just about time enough to have reached the trail, they heard her scream.
“Mr. Wilde! Billy! Quick—oh, quick!”
They came running out of the narrow path and reached her side almost breathless. She was waving her hands with great excitement and her face was a picture of convulsive terror and pity.
Along the upper part of the trail they saw!