It being such warm weather the girls made dressing enough to stuff only two of the chickens. They got on bravely with their share of the work and were ready to put the chickens in the oven in the big dripping-pan when Laura's and Bobby's cakes were done.

Meanwhile Reddy and Short and Long had been very busy with the ice-cream freezer. The boys had brought over a can of milk and a big block of ice from the landing and Mrs. Morse had made the ice-cream.

The boys froze it and packed it down in the shade.

Everybody began to get hungry early, for the odors from the cook-tent had been most delicious. As soon as the chickens and the baked potatoes were done, supper was served. Liz, in a clean dress and a clean ap.r.o.n served it.

Everything was fine except the chicken stuffing. There was something just a little queer about _that_; but what it was n.o.body seemed able to tell.

"I know I seasoned it with that same prepared seasoning of herbs that we use at home," wailed Jess.

"You must have left something out," said Nellie, despairingly.

Chet was tasting the dressing critically. "No," he said, without a smile. "I don't think you could have done _that_."

Jess brightened visibly. "Then it doesn't taste so bad?" she said, hopefully.

"There's nothing you could have left _out_, Jess, that would make it taste like this. It's something you've put in----"

Liz suddenly presented herself at the table shaking a box in her hand.

"Was _this_ what you took for seasonin' for that stuffin'?" she demanded, solemnly.

"Why--yes," admitted Jess. "That's the very box I always buy it in at our grocer's."

"Yep," said Liz. "It comes in that. But that's an old box I've had a long time, and there was lic'rish powder in it. I guess 'twon't hurt none o' yer; but I wouldn't eat much o' that stuffin'."

"Goodness!" murmured Jess, as the laughter broke out. "I _thought_ that stuff smelt kind of funny when I shook it out of the can."

CHAPTER XV

THE BARNACLE HAS A NOSE

Aside from that single mistake the meal was declared to be a great success. The cake turned out a joy, and when it and the heaping dishes of ice-cream were brought on, the boys stood up and gave three cheers for the girls of Acorn Island Camp.

"But hold on!" exclaimed Chet, suddenly investigating his share of the ice-cream with a spoon. "I have been given a premium with my supply.

Here! who has lost a perfectly good fly?"

"Alive?" demanded his chum, Lance.

"He can still crawl," admitted Chet.

"That fly's a perfect idiot," declared Lance, warmly. "It's the same one that was in the hot gravy a little while ago. I hope he takes a chill. What does he think this is--a turkish bath?"

They lingered long at the table, until finally Liz (who had agreed to "clean up") drove them all out of the tent. They finished the ice-cream (which Reddy and Short and Long declared _had_ to be eaten up because there was not ice enough to keep it out in the open), with the light fading out of the western sky and the early fireflies flitting about the edge of the wood.

The Barnacle began to bark vociferously, all of a sudden. Lizzie, up at the lighted cook-tent, squealed.

Up rose the boys with a great whoop. "Go for it!" yelled Lance. "Sick 'im!" which seems to be the approved way to set a dog on anything living.

Barnacle was barking his foolish head off. He dashed across from the cook-tent to the woods, and then back again. The boys all urged him on. The girls ran together in a frightened group, Lil moaning:

"Oh, he's here again! that dreadful man is here again!"

"Hush you!" commanded Liz, in disgust. "'Tain't no man. 'Tain't even a ha'nt. I seen it. It's a black and white kitten----"

"Oh, Chet! call him off! call him off!" begged Laura.

"Quick, Chet!" added Jess. "Don't let that horrid dog hurt that kitty."

"Chetwood!" shrieked Laura again, knowing more about the inhabitants of the woods than her chum. "Chetwood! Stop it! Come back! That's _a polecat_!"

"_What_?" gasped all the girls, and then Bobby began to shriek with laughter. It was too, too funny--with Jess begging the boys not to let the Barnacle hurt "kitty."

It was impossible, however, to call the dog off the trail. That camp scavenger, the American skunk, is the mildest mannered little creature in the world--providing he is left strictly alone. Being timid and otherwise defenseless, G.o.d has given him a scent-sack which----

"n.o.body can tell me that the skunk only brought a _cent_ into the Ark," declared the exhausted Bobby. "That fellow has a dollar's worth himself!"

"Why--why did the Creator ever _make_ such a horrid beast?" demanded Lil.

"You ask that and wear those furs of yours in the winter?" said Nellie, laughing. "The pretty little fellow that the Barnacle has so unwisely chased away from our vicinity is becoming very valuable to the furriers. There are people who raise the creatures for the market----"

"Excuse _me_!" gasped Bobby. "I'd want a chronic cold in the head, if I had to work on a skunk farm."

As Barnacle and his quarry went farther from the camp the odor that had risen drifted away, too; but for two days thereafter the girls could easily tell in which part of the island Barnacle was running game, by the way in which the odor came "down wind" to them.

Liz fed him at the edge of the wood; the girls chased him from the vicinity of the tents whenever he appeared.

The Barnacle did not mind much; for he had struck a dog-hunter's paradise. He was a fiend after small game and there had not been a dog on Acorn Island for some years, in all probability.

He was running and yapping all day and pretty nearly all night. How many groundhogs, chipmunks, muskrats, c.o.o.ns, and other small animals, besides the rabbits, he chased and caught there was no telling.

Perhaps he did not kill one.

But he barked to his heart's desire and when he finally had driven everything to cover, he came back to the tents, purified in soul as well as in odor, and was willing to sleep during the day and sit up on his haunches at night (when they tied him to the corner of the cabin) and try to howl his head off at the moon.

The girls--even Lil and Nellie--lost their fear of a second visit from the mysterious "kleptomaniantic." n.o.body would land upon the island to disturb them while that crazy dog was about.

So they fished, and swam, and picked berries, and hunted flowers and herbs, and went out sailing with the boys in the powerboats, and drove their canoes up and down the lake, having a fine time every hour of the day.

Mrs. Morse got on famously with her book, and allowed the girls to do about as they liked. They got into no mischief, however; but they all grew brown, and strong, and even Lily began to put on flesh.

At this season there were few fishermen at Lake Dunkirk. Some days there were long processions of barges sailing past the island, making for Rocky River and the ports down stream. And sometimes puffy tugs drew other barges westward, against the current.

None of the crews of these boats disturbed the campers. Acorn Island had been placarded for years, and it had always been necessary to get a permit to have even a picnic there.

Just one couple of fishermen came within range of the girls' vision that first week or ten days. And that couple, in their clumsy canoe, were never near enough for the girls of Central High to see their faces.