"Can you see through it?" she demanded. "What do you think the Dimple means?"

"I haven't the least idea," said her chum, frankly.

But there was another thought which Laura Belding was not so frank about. She spoke of this to neither Jess nor Bobby.

They agreed, as they went back toward their camp, with Barnacle, that they would take n.o.body into their confidence about the professor being up here at Lake Dunkirk, fishing. Suspicious circ.u.mstances had attached themselves to the old gentleman's presence here; yet the girls could not believe that Professor Dimp had anything to do with the raid on their larder, or the frightening of Liz Bean the evening previous.

However, Laura took Liz aside when they arrived at the camp and endeavored to get the truth out of her.

"Liz," she said to the sad-faced girl, who seemed gloomier than ever on this morning, "who was the man who scared you in the rain last evening?"

The maid-of-all-work did not look startled. Perhaps she had nerved herself already for just this question.

She merely stared at Laura unblinkingly and asked. "What, Ma'am?"

"Don't pretend that you don't know what I mean, Liz," said Laura, impatiently. "I found the man's tracks and the Barnacle found his camp for us. The man came right into this tent last evening in all that storm, and you let him out at the back and laced down the flaps.

"Of course, there was no harm in it. And there may be no harm in the man himself, or his reason for being here on Acorn Island.

"But if the girls hear of it--all of them, I mean--they are going to be scared again, and it will break up our outing and spoil all our fun. Now! I want to know what it means, Liz."

"Don't mean nothin'," declared the girl, sullenly.

"Why, _that_ is no answer," cried Laura.

"Then there ain't none," said Liz, shrugging her narrow shoulders, and she turned to her work again.

"You absolutely refuse to talk to me about him?" demanded Laura, rather vexed.

"I ain't got nothin' to say," muttered Lizzie Bean.

"Then I'll find out about him in some other way. It is that Mr. Norman you spoke about before--I am sure of _that_. And I shall write to Albany and learn why he is up here and what he is doing. Of one thing I am sure: he has no business on this island frightening the girls.

The island is private property and is posted."

If Liz was at all frightened by this threat, she did not show it. And, to tell the truth, it was an empty threat. Laura Belding did not know whom to write to in the city. She did not know the address at which Liz had worked there, and at which the mysterious Mr. Norman had been a boarder.

Some of the boys came over that afternoon and arranged with the girls of Acorn Island Camp to go fishing up the lake the next day. There was a certain creek, which came in from the north side, that was supposed to be well stocked with perch and trout.

"Part of it is posted, I believe," said Chet. "Some old grouch owns a fishing right on the stream. But we can keep off his territory. And we'll show you girls how to fish with a fly, and to use your reels."

"Teach us how to fish with mosquitoes--they're more plentiful than flies since the rain," Jess said, slapping at one which was just presenting his bill.

"Crackey!" exclaimed Billy Long. "You've got it good here. There are not many of the beasts on this island. But there's a swamp not far behind our camp, and it's a shame to call the things that come from that swamp, mosquitoes--they are more like flying tigers!"

"I suppose the old sabre-toothed tiger, of our prehistoric days, was no more savage than these swamp fly-by-nights," Chet laughed.

"Don't you have any other visitors over yonder?" Laura asked.

"Oh, say! we had some this morning. Did you hear the hounds baying?"

"Hounds?"

"Real bloodhounds," said her brother. "Sheriff's posse----"

"Hush!" gasped Laura, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Haven't you any sense at all? Want to scare Lil and Nellie out of their next five years' growth?"

"Wow!" muttered Chet.

"Shut Billy off, too. And then come and tell me all about it,"

commanded Laura.

Chet grabbed Billy by the collar and dragged him away from the girls.

Then, after whispering to the smaller boy, emphatically, for a minute, he let him go and rejoined his sister.

"Now, what do you want to know, Sis?" he demanded.

"All about it," said Laura, eagerly. "Is there really a sheriff's posse hunting him?"

"Who's who?" asked Chet, in much amazement.

"Why--whoever they are chasing," replied Laura, rather blankly.

"Just curiosity?" Chet wanted to know.

"You can call it that," responded the girl, smiling whimsically at him.

"You never were just idly curious in all your life," declared Chet, grinning at her. "Well! the men were after that fellow who stole from the Merchants and Miners Bank of Albany."

"Oh!"

"They got wind of his being up this way. Somebody saw him, or thought he did. Crackey! Do you suppose _he_ was the fellow who took the food from your tent, Laura?"

"Yes, I do," admitted his sister.

"Then he's far enough away from the lake now," said Chet, nodding.

"That amount would have lasted him till he got over the Canadian border."

"Perhaps," said Laura. "At any rate, those dogs won't be able to follow his trail much after the hard rain of last night."

"Sure not," Chet rejoined. "That's what the sheriff said. He got us to promise to let him know at Creeper Station if we saw anybody who looked like Norman Halliday----"

"That's it!" gasped Laura, clapping her hands together.

"What's 'it?'" demanded her brother, wonderingly.

"His name."

"Of course it is. The fellow who stole the securities from the bank.