resembling gentle snores proved most interesting to a puzzled chipmunk, who had a pantry in that tree. The chipmunk even perched on Mr. Black's toe to listen; but the good, weary gentleman slumbered unheedingly.

Jean, Marjory, Mabel, and Henrietta were having a glorious time in the rippling blue lake. When they were tired of splashing about to scare the abundant minnows, they built wonderful castles in the sand. Mabel's were square and solid, like Mabel herself; Jean's were lofty with aspiring towers and turrets, and Henrietta's were honeycombed with fearsome dungeons. Marjory built long streets of tiny, modern, and excessively neat dwellings.

After that, they discovered that the beach near the river's mouth was strewn with pebbles of every hue known to pebbles. There were agates, bits of glittering quartz and granite, and many brown, green, or yellow stones threaded prettily with a network of white. They wanted to gather them all to carry back to Bettie, but contented themselves with about a bushel—all that their four skirts would hold. But they found to their surprise that they were anchored to the ground; that it wasn't possible to rise with the heavy burden. As for carrying the glittering hoard, that was clearly impossible, too; so they heaped their treasure on the sand and ran to look at the river where it joined the lake.

Never was there a more companionable river. At the mouth it was only a yard wide and just deep enough to cover one's ankles. A little way up, it spread out as wide as a street, but there it barely covered one's toes. Farther up, there were big, moss-covered stones and the water grew perceptibly deeper—up to one's knees. Still further, and the river grew wide and deep and darkly mysterious, where great trees cast brown and green shadows over the russet surface.

"Ugh!" shuddered Henrietta, at this point, "let's go back—I like it better where it's narrow."

"So do I," agreed Jean. "If there were crocodiles in this part of the country, that's where they'd live."

"Let's build a bridge across the narrowest place," proposed Marjory.

All about were stones and driftwood. The girls built a beautiful bridge and sat afterwards on the beach to admire their handiwork; but very soon the quiet water stealthily washed the sand away from the foundation stones and in a little while the river's mouth was twice as wide as it had been before the bridge, now floating lakeward, was built.

"I could stay here forever," said Henrietta, "there are so many things to do—nice, foolish things, like sand-castles, bridges that float away, and stones that look like diamonds when they're wet and like just stones when they're dry. I'd like to live here."

"So would I," agreed Jean.

"Wouldn't it be nice," asked Marjory, "if we could come here to camp?"

"We're here now," returned matter-of-fact Mabel. "Let's pretend we really are camping."

"Look at the lake!" exclaimed Jean, suddenly. "It isn't blue any more—it's all gray and silver."

"And all the ripples are gone," observed Henrietta. "See how flat and smooth it is and how lazy it is along the edges. And the sand is turning pink!"

"Hush!" warned quick-eared Marjory. "I think Mr. Black's calling us—yes, he's waving the tablecloth!"

After they had picked their way rather painfully over the bed of sharp pebbles, the barefooted girls ran gaily along the hard, smooth beach—they were surprised to find themselves so far from their foot-gear.

"Mr. Black seems excited," remarked Jean. "I wonder if anything has happened."

"Perhaps," said Henrietta, soberly, "it's time to go home."

"It can't be," protested Mabel. "We've only just come—anyway, it seems so."

"That," explained Jean, sagely, "is because this is the very nicest spot that ever grew."

"Hurry!" shouted Mr. Black; "don't wait to put on your shoes—just bring them along."

CHAPTER IV
A Night Out

"JEAN," queried Mr. Black, when the four rather disheveled youngsters had scrambled up the bank, "have you girls seen anything of a boat?"

"No," replied Jean.

"Have you been on the shore all the time?"

"Every minute."

"I didn't see a boat," offered Henrietta, "but about half an hour ago—or perhaps an hour—I heard something that made a noise like this: 'chug-chug, chuggity-chug, chug-chug-chuggity-chug'"—Henrietta gave a very fair imitation of a naptha launch.

"I heard it, too," admitted Margery.

"That was the boat," said Mr. Blank, scanning the forsaken lake anxiously. "It's Hillitt's fish-tug and it goes down to Lakeville at sundown every day when the weather's fair. The tug runs to Bear Bay. I expected to go home on that boat; but, unfortunately, I went to sleep and didn't wake up in time to signal her."

"She was very far out," volunteered Jean. "You couldn't have seen her from here—I looked in every direction when I heard that noise, but I couldn't see what was making it."

"I thought," confessed Marjory, "that it was some sort of an animal breathing queerly—I didn't exactly like it."

"Evidently," said Mr. Black, "that boat stayed a long way from shore—sound carries a great distance over water. Anyway, that eases my conscience a little. I ought not to have fallen asleep, but I didn't suspect that it was so late. You see, girls, our time is all off. Goodness only knows how long it took us to get here; and I'm sure I don't know whether it was one, two, or three when we ate our dinner. Now, what do you think that big, golden sun's doing—over there behind those trees?"

"I think," said Henrietta, eying it, sagely, "that it's either going down or coming up. And I know it can't be time for it to come up."

"And it can't possibly be time," protested Mabel, "for it to go down."

"I fear it is," said Mr. Black. "I ought never to have taken that nap."

"Peter," demanded Mrs. Crane, suddenly joining the group, "how are we ever going to get home?"

"Sarah," replied Mr. Black, with one of his sweet, whimsical smiles, "I'm blest if I know."

"But, Peter, it's too far to walk; and the Whale——"

"But, Sarah, I fully intended to go home by boat. I was told that that boat passed here every day. Well, it has passed, hasn't it?"

"Yes," admitted Mrs. Crane, dryly, "it passed all right."

"When the Whale broke down," continued Mr. Black, soothingly, "I said to myself, 'Never mind, old chap, there's Hillitt's launch—we'll hail that and ride home.'"

"And when you assured us that you knew of a safe and easy way to get home, you were depending on that boat!"

"Sarah, don't rebuke me. I was. But, having committed that fatal error, I'm willing to atone for it. Hi there, girls! We'll all have to work for our living for the next hour or so. You see, good people, we'll probably have to stay here all night unless somebody sees our fire on the shore. Jean, I'm going to take you and Henrietta to the Whale so you can help me rob him of his lanterns and cushions. Sarah, I want you and the girls to take this hatchet, my knife, the bread-knife, and anything else that is sharp, and cut as many balsam boughs as you can from that grove of evergreens over there—I want a whole wagon load. Bettie, you can sit here on this log and fill these two hamper-covers with chips—we'll need a lot of firewood."

Presently Mr. Black and his two companions were back with