But Nathalie’s cheery voice, like oil on troubled waters, interposed quickly, “Of course she is not afraid, but it is an unpleasant thing to do to ride that distance alone at night. But we can’t take chances, and we must have a doctor. And as to the one you telephone to, Edith,” she cried, turning to that young lady, whose face had brightened somewhat, “call Dr. McGill, he’s the little white-haired doctor who called on Dr. Morrow the other day. He lives at Boonton.”
Without another protest Edith turned, and after running back to the cheer fire circle to inform Helen what the girls were going to do, she hurried after her wheel. A few minutes later, with the lantern fastened to the front of it, flickering like a firefly as she sped through the woods, she was on her way to the farm to telephone.
Lillie and Nathalie had hurried down to the boathouse, and in a flash of time had unfastened one of the row boats. Springing quickly in, they were soon out some distance from shore, rowing as rapidly as they could towards the opposite bank. It was a weird night, the sky seemed hung with heavy black curtains, the only light being that from the moon, as at rare intervals she darted swiftly through some opening between the clouds, or betrayed her presence by streaks of foamy silver on the edge of some unusually inky cloud.
But the path across the Lake was a familiar one, and ten minutes later the girls reached the opposite shores. “Why, it looks as if there wasn’t a soul about,” exclaimed Lillie, as, after drawing in their oars, the two girls stood up in the boat and peered anxiously through the bit of woodland that led to the camp, whose signal lantern glimmered dimly through the foliage of the trees.
“I guess you’re right, Nathalie, the boys must be on a tramp,” said Lillie after several loud “Hellos!” the only reply to which had been a faint echo from across the Lake.
Putting her fingers to her mouth Lillie emitted several sharp whistles, but still no sign of life! “Huh, it looks as if it was a case of Goldsmith’s ‘Deserted Village,’” she soliloquized dismally, but Nathalie was busy giving the Pioneer yell. This evoked such a strange medley of echoing sounds that the girls burst out laughing.
Nathalie’s face soon sobered, however, as she exclaimed dolefully, “O dear, it does seem as if we were destined to have bad luck. I wonder if they could have gone to bed!” burst from her in sudden thought.
“If they have, we’ll soon rout them out,” declared Lillie, jumping on the bank. “Come on, let’s drag the boat up and then hike to camp.”
After slipping on pine needles, stumbling over gnarled roots and blackened stumps, they finally found the path, devoutly thankful that the moon had at last emerged from behind the clouds. Indeed, as they stepped from the shadows of the woods and stood on the campus—as the scouts called the level space in front of the tents—the moon was shining with a brightness that equalled the day.
As the girls’ eyes traveled from the pots on the top pole suspended over what had once been a camp fire to the rows of tents, whose open flaps revealed that they were tenantless, Lillie uttered a sudden cry of delighted surprise!