Without a word Norma grabbed the camera and raced down the stairs to take three exposures before the sun was too high.
“I can’t imagine what could have happened to my camera,” she exclaimed, after a thorough search. “I’m sure I left it on the mantel downstairs. I took two shots of the fishermen’s boats coming in yesterday, then put it on the mantel and forgot it.”
“Oh! it will show up.” Betty was a cheerful soul.
At breakfast that morning, Norma sat by Lieutenant Warren and told her all about Bess, Beth, their grandfather, and Black Knob.
“That seems an admirable spot for a spotter shed,” said Miss Warren.
“It must be,” Norma agreed. “Of course it has its watching post but it seems undermanned—a grandfather and two old ladies for the night and fishermen keeping an eye out during the day. Doesn’t sound very good.”
“No, it doesn’t. We may want to lend them a helping hand. I’ve asked for six more auxiliaries for just such emergencies.”
“I’m glad of that,” Norma said. “We may need them more than you think before a month has passed.”
“Why? What do you mean by that?” The Lieutenant gave her a sharp look.
“Just a hunch, I guess,” Norma evaded. She wasn’t going to tell of the photographer with bristly white hair, of the voices behind scenes at the studio, the black pigeons, or the missing camera until she had more to tell.