As the scouts pushed off from the shore, they lingered until Marjorie and Frieda disappeared around a bend in the stream on their way to the farm-house. Then, still thinking of the peaches, they went slowly forward.

“Let’s go slowly, and give the girls a chance to catch us,” suggested Ethel. “I could eat a peach right now.”

“So could I,” agreed Lily.

“Oh, Marj and Frieda will soon catch us,” reassured Ruth. “They’re the two best canoeists we’ve got.”

“You’re right, Ruth,” said Florence Evans. “Really, it hardly seems worth while for the rest of us to go in that water meet. Marj will be so sure to carry off the prize!”

“What did I tell you, Lil?” asked Ruth, triumphantly.

“Well, don’t repeat it, or I’m liable to upset the canoe again.” She was in quite a good humor now, and could laugh about the episode. “But I do think,” she added, “that we all have a good chance to become as expert as Marj is, and we’re bum sports if we just sit back and complain that it isn’t fair! It would spoil all her pleasure!”

“Right you are, Lily!” commented Miss Phillips. “I am beginning to see that it is worth while to be a scout, after all.”

“Yes, I am ashamed of myself,” said Ruth, humbly. “But I am putting all my energy into the job, and I hope maybe I am improving, a teeny-weeny bit. How about it, Captain?”

“You are doing very well, Ruth,” she replied, with sincerity.

The girls paddled on in silence for a time, all the while keeping a sharp look-out behind them for the absent ones. But there were so many bends and turns, and the trees were so thick on either side, that they could scarcely see two hundred yards behind them. Suddenly Ruth noticed a little tributary to the right.

“Where did that come from, Captain?” she asked.

“Not far from the farm where the girls stopped for peaches. We might have followed it, but it would have necessitated a portage, so I preferred the longer way entirely by water.”

“That’s the one Marj and Frieda took!” cried Ruth, with assurance. “And you can mark my words, they’re ahead of us right now! They just thought they’d be smart and beat us!” “But they’d have to make portage,” objected Ethel. “And with all those peaches——”

“Portages mean nothing in Frieda Hammer’s young life!” contradicted Ruth. “She’s as strong as an ox!”

“Well, if they did, I call it mean,” said Florence. “I’m dying for a peach.”

“Me too!” put in Alice.

They fell silent again; the creek as it approached the river was becoming swifter, and the canoes required more attention. Miss Phillips alone was worried about the missing girls; it did not seem like either Marjorie or Frieda to play such a trick. Had Ruth been one of the two she would hardly have given the matter a thought, but under these circumstances she was afraid that something had happened.

By the time four o’clock came they were approaching the locality which the captain had designated for their final night in the open. All the girls looked eagerly for the signs of a canoe or of their missing companions, and hoped at every instant to hear the familiar whistle. But they heard nothing except the sounds of nature, the dip of the paddles, and the lapping of the water against the sides of the canoes.

“They’re hiding, I’ll bet!” exclaimed Ruth, as she pulled in to shore.

“No, they’re not either!” said Miss Phillips, who had already landed her canoe. “I’m afraid something has happened.”

“I’ll go right back, Captain!” offered Ruth. “Who’ll go with me?”

“Thanks, Ruth,” said Miss Phillips; “but I’m afraid it’s too late. Remember, it would mean to paddle up stream. And night is coming on, too. There would be no use of several of us getting lost, as well as the other two. At least, they are together. Marjorie’s canoe may have sprung another leak.”

“But what shall we do, Captain?” inquired Lily, now becoming alarmed.

“We’ll wait till tomorrow morning, and then I will take one of you and go back. In the meantime, we may as well get to work and make our camp.”

“But who’ll cook?” demanded Ruth. The idea of assuming Frieda’s duties did not particularly appeal to her.

“We’ll have to take turns,” answered Miss Phillips. “Ruth, you and Lily will prepare supper to-night, and Frances and Alice will get breakfast. I’ll appoint others later. For we may be here a good while.”

“Oh, I hope not,” said Frances, optimistically.

“Suppose we’d miss the water meet,” suggested Ruth in distress.

“Well, I hope we shan’t; but that wouldn’t be nearly so tragic as losing two of our girls,” said Lily. The tents were soon put up, and a tempting meal was spread before the tired and hungry girls. But it did not prove to be a merry one. A shadow seemed to have fallen upon the group; the lost girls were general favorites, and everyone, except Ruth, who pretended to be, was disturbed over their absence. Therefore no one was sorry when Miss Phillips suggested that they all go to bed early.

“I should like an early breakfast, cooks,” said the captain. “Is five o’clock too soon? Then Ethel and I will start back for the farm house, to inquire news of the girls, and to search. Frances, you will be in charge, of course, here at the camp. Maintain strict discipline, please. Swimming and canoeing will both be permitted, but no girl is to go out of sight of camp alone.”

Both Ethel and her captain found it an entirely different matter to paddle up stream instead of down; their shoulders ached and their hands were blistered when, about three o’clock in the afternoon, they finally arrived at the farm-house. All along the way they had looked for a canoe and listened for the sound of girls’ voices, and had whistled and called, but in vain; only the echo of their own voices answered their appeals.

It was unfortunate that their sneakers made no sound as they walked across the grass, and that Marjorie and Frieda at the time happened to be lying on the bed, out of view of the window. Nor did they hear the voices, for their room was at the other end of the house from the kitchen. Their captor saw the visitors approaching, and went to the kitchen window. In a soft voice she asked what they wanted.

“Did you see anything of two girls who came here yesterday to buy some peaches?” asked Miss Phillips.

The woman had to think quickly, in order to decide upon the best reply to make. In a second, however, she answered,

“Yes, I sold ’em a dollar’s worth, and they went down yonder and got into their boat again.”

“Did they say anything about playing a joke on us?”

“Yes, they asked me if there was any different way, and I told them about that little branch off to the north. They laughed, and said they’d take it, and mebbe beat you. They ain’t lost, are they?”

“They must be!” sighed Miss Phillips, in extreme distress. She was sincerely alarmed now.

“Any tramps around here?” she inquired anxiously.

“No—hardly ever. And what there is, is harmless. Nothin’ could have hurt them. Mebbe their boat sprung a leak, and they had to stop and get it fixed.”

“And which way did they go?” repeated Miss Phillips.

“That there way—” replied the woman, pointing. “They carried their boat down past that there oak tree—you’ll find a stream there, if you want ter follow it. Good luck to you!” she concluded, as her visitors turned to go.

“Thank you,” said Miss Phillips; and she and Ethel went in the direction indicated.