"Keep on rowing!" shouted Bob's voice. "We'll have to land and walk back.

You girls can never beat back against this storm. We're almost to the sh.o.r.e now."

A few minutes more and the boats touched sh.o.r.e. The boys were out in an instant and helped the girls to land.

"We'll carry up the boats--don't you think that is best, Tommy?" shouted Bob. "If we carry them up high enough and leave them, they will be perfectly safe."

The wind and the rain made shouting necessary if one's voice were to carry above the storm. The boys lifted the light boats and carried them into the woods, turning them over so that the keels were up.

"Now the question is," said Bob, who seemed by common consent to have been elected leader, "shall we walk along the sh.o.r.e and get drenched, or take a chance of finding our way through the woods?"

To their astonishment, Libbie burst into a fit of hysterical weeping.

"Don't go through the woods," she begged, her teeth chattering. "We'll fall into that awful Indian Chasm."

Bobby's heart reproached her for her thoughtless joke and she put an arm around her cousin.

"Libbie, you never thought I was serious about pushing you into the chasm, did you?" she asked anxiously. "Is that what has been making you act so queerly ever since? I was only fooling."

So, thought Betty, Bobby, too, had noticed Libbie's unnatural behavior.

"Oh, it isn't that," sobbed Libbie. "I can't explain--but if we go through the woods, I'm sure I shall go crazy."

"Well, then, that settles it," said Bob comfortably. "Better to be drowned than to go crazy. Can you turn up your sweater collars, girls? I wish we'd brought some raincoats along."

Splashing and stumbling, they followed Bob down to the sh.o.r.e and began the weary walk that would lead them back to the school. After fifteen minutes' steady walking they came to a dense undergrowth that was impossible to penetrate.

"No use, we'll have to make a cut through the woods," announced Bob. "Up this way and over, ought to bring us out right."

He was so cheerful and patient that the tired, rain-soaked girls could not do otherwise than follow his example. Libbie was crying silently, but the others tramped along cheerfully, singing, at Betty's suggestion, old college and school songs.

"Look here, Bob," said Tommy Tucker in an undertone, "I don't think we're going in the right direction. Don't you say it would be better to take the girls to that deserted cabin we found the other day and leave them there while we explore a bit? They're getting soaked through, and Libbie Littell is fixing to have hysterics. Leave a couple of the boys with 'em, so they won't be afraid, and then we'll locate the right trail and take 'em over it home in a hurry."

This suggestion sounded like good, common-sense to Bob, and he said so.

"Betty could walk ten miles and be all right," he declared proudly, "and I think Bobby is good for a hike, too. But Frances Martin can't see when the rain gets on her gla.s.ses, and, as you say, something is the matter with Libbie. So let's make for the cabin, quick."

The Salsette boys had explored the woods pretty thoroughly, and on a recent expedition Bob and his chums had stumbled on an old one-room cabin, buried deep in the woods and evidently unoccupied for years. It was not far from the end of the lake, and toward it they now led the girls, explaining as they went what they intended to do.

"We'll be all right," said Betty at once. "I think if Libbie can sit down and rest she'll feel better, too. And if you all want to go and hunt for the trail, you needn't worry about us."

"Oh, Sydney and I intend to stay," Gilbert Lane a.s.sured her quickly. (The boys had settled that among themselves.) "We'll be handy in case any Indians or the like come after you."

Betty gave him a warning glance, for Libbie looked frightened. Surely something was wrong with the girl!

The cabin door was open and the interior was comparatively dry. There was no furniture, but three or four old packing boxes furnished the girls with seats. Bob and five of his friends disappeared, whistling. Gilbert and Sydney were investigating the ramshackle fireplace to see what the prospects were for starting a fire when a shriek from Libbie brought them to their feet.

"A ghost!" cried the girl. "A ghost! Over there in the corner!"

Frances Martin gave a cry, and Betty and Bobby went white. Even Gilbert afterward confessed that his scalp p.r.i.c.kled when a figure stepped forward from a narrow closet against the wall.

"Ugh! Howdy!" he grunted, and they saw that he was a very old and very dirty Indian.

"Rain," he said slowly, pointing to the door. "Stop soon now. Go get supper."

He shuffled over the doorsill and at the edge he turned.

"Howdy!" he said, apparently with some vague idea of farewell.

"Much rain!"

Petrified, they watched him hobble away through the woods.

CHAPTER XVIII

LIBBIE'S SECRET

Gilbert Lane was the first to recover his voice.

"Well, what do you know about that!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "The old bird was here all the time."

"Are--are--are there any more of them?" stammered Louise.

"No, that old fellow is the only Indian for miles around," said Gilbert carelessly. "He was left behind, the fellows at school say, when that band stole the Macklin treasure. They had a grudge against him, it seems, and they tripped him and left him with a broken leg. He worked around on different farms for years and now does a day's work often enough to keep him in food. Queer old d.i.c.k, I guess."

"What makes you girls look so funny?" demanded Sydney. "You're not afraid now, are you? That Indian won't come back--he was more afraid of us than we were of him. I figure out he was asleep when we came in and the noise woke him up. What are you smiling about?"

"My grandmother is Mrs. Marcia Macklin," explained Norma. "And you see it was her gold and silver and jewels the Indians stole. I wonder what he would have said if we had told him?"

"Gee, is that so?" asked Sydney, ignoring the latter half of Norma's sentence. "And is all that stuff down in the chasm yet?"

"As far as we know, it is," said Norma. "And likely to remain there," she added, with a sigh.

Bob and the boys returned in less than half an hour, to announce that they had found the right road and were prepared to pilot the girls expeditiously homeward. Libbie's cheeks were unnaturally flushed and she looked miserable, but she refused to let Bob and Tommy carry her by forming a "chair" with their hands.

"I'm all right," she insisted hoa.r.s.ely. "I only want to get home."

Knowing the way positively saved much fumbling and time, and soon the familiar buildings of Shadyside loomed up before them. The boys had a long tramp still before them, and if they were not to be late for supper, must walk briskly. They continued on their way, while the girls ran up the steps of the dormitory building.

"There's no use talking, Libbie, you've got to see the infirmary nurse,"

said Bobby resolutely. "I promised your mother to look after you, and if you're going to be sick you'll at least have the proper care. Wait till we get into some dry things, and I'll take you."

Libbie looked rebellious, but she made no verbal protest, and when they were once more in dry clothes Bobby marched her cousin to the immaculate infirmary. She returned alone, saying that the nurse had detained Libbie for observation over night.

"She thinks she's getting a heavy cold, but it may be more serious,"

Bobby reported. "Well, anyway, I've done my duty. But romantic people are always forgetting to wear their rubbers."