In spite of pessimistic prognostications about the weather, Friday came and it was a perfect Autumn day. Fiji Baker and Jack Hubert were up at day-break as their express-man carted the canoe from the Park that early so it would not interfere with his regular calls and cartage for the day.

Fred and his crew started at noon in their launch, and at three o’clock the merry Woodcrafters stood about the gymnasium door waiting for the three automobiles which would have the luggage and other equipment packed in them before stopping for the girls.

While waiting, Nita showed the girls a new Flower and Butterfly dance she had invented. It was most graceful and the girls applauded heartily. Miss Miller smiled as she said:

“Nita, there is no use in trying to train you for aught else than a dancing flower in a wandering breeze, or a charming little humming-bird that lightly caresses every blossom in passing.”

“Miss Miller should have a coup for spontaneous poetry,” laughed Nita, well-pleased at the Guide’s sincere praise.

“Yes, the Tribe must hand it to its Guide for finding something religious or poetical in any prosaic thing she finds. Not that Nita is prosaic by any means, but there have been times when Miss Miller’s muse has been inspired with nothing more to base its flight upon than an ordinary dust-cloth or common potato!” laughed Zan.

The sound of approaching automobiles caused poesy and dancing to end and soon the girls were gayly seated in the cars. Such chattering and laughter as sounded from the passengers as the machines sped swiftly cross-town and reached the ferry where they had to take the boat to reach Staten Island!

“Miss Miller,” asked Anne Mason, as they waited for a ferry-boat to dock, “can we new members start to collect flowers and do some tree lessons, or birds and star knowing, to catch up with your five founders of the Band?”

“Yes, you can, but why not leave those studies and do them at odd times when the older members have other things to do? We might all work together at this camp to find many interesting things to start new collections. For instance, the shells and other marine objects.”

“I never thought of that,” replied Anne.

“The new members are so anxious to have individual Tally Books, you see, Miss Miller,” explained Zan, “and they haven’t any pressed flowers or blue prints or other things to record as we have in ours.”

“If only you would wait until we catch up with you,” sighed May Randall.

“You can soon do that, girls, by using every spare moment when not otherwise engaged, to learn about the stars, find flowers and insects, and study trees and Nature in the Park. Then we can witness and sign your honour claims at a Council,” added the Guide.

“You new girls haven’t made your Tallies yet,” said Hilda.

“That is one of the things we want you to tell us about,” said Frances Mason.

“I think I have enough pieces of tanned leather to give each girl a cover,” now offered Zan.

“And we have enough thong and beads to bind the books and tie the pages,” added Elena.

“Then the girls ought to buy the page paper and make their Tallies at once, so everything can be entered in proper order,” advised the Guide.

“Miss Miller, maybe we can try for the degree of canoeman while we camp near the water,” ventured Jane.

Miss Miller said nothing to this but smiled and shook her head. She wondered if the girls understood the experience necessary before winning a degree of that kind.

Jim, the Bakers’ chauffeur, and Alfred, the Remingtons’ chauffeur, had each been given concise directions how to find the camp-site. Bob had drawn a road-map for Jim, and Fred had sketched a rough plan of where to turn. So Jim led the three cars as they left the ferry.

After travelling several miles, he consulted Bob’s map.

“I don’t seem to quite get this clear! Master Bob’s got here ‘Good woodland road,’ but all I can find is this swamp and that wood-cutters’ trail on the far side!” said Jim.

The other two cars came up, and Alfred said: “Can you make head or tail out of the map, Jim?”

“I was jus’ sayin’ that Master Bob must have been dreamin’ about this ‘good woodland road,’” returned Jim.

“Let’s take this road—it looks fine—and see if we come to a woodland road further on,” suggested Miss Miller.

So the opposite direction was taken, hoping they might find the good road mentioned on the map. After riding for twenty minutes more, the chauffeurs suddenly found the sign-post marked on both maps.

“Now ain’t that funny! It’s the post all right, but we never came by that woodland road!” declared Jim.

“Let’s be thankful we found one land-mark they put down for us to follow!” grumbled Alfred, where-upon everyone laughed.

In vain did they seek for other land-marks or objects to correspond to those marked on the maps. They found good roads but nothing to lead them to believe they were following directions. Finally, as they all halted for another conference, Alfred stood up and looked about. He scratched his head back of the ear as if in a quandary.

“Let’s hear it, Alfred,” laughed Elizabeth.

“Well, I was thinkin’! Your maw came this very road last Spring when she camped her Tribe on Decoration Day. Why not go this way and trust to luck to bring us to the boys’ camp?”

“It would be all right for us but what about the boys?” asked Zan.

“They have to pass by your site on their way up the shore and you can hail them,” suggested Jim.

“It’s growing late, girls, and we have to pitch tents, get ready to cook supper, and lots of other work,” warned the Guide.

“Then let’s follow Alfred’s advice and take a chance on finding the boys,” agreed Elizabeth.

As they started again to cross the Island to find the camping place Mrs. Remington had used that Spring Elizabeth told them what a Paradise it was. Woods, beach, cliff for diving, spring of fine water, and everything a Woodcrafter could wish for.

Finally Alfred turned in on the hard sandy beach and in a short time stopped by a small promontory of sand that ran out like a finger into the sea. On top of this cliff and as far back as one could see, were the woods, with a clearing in the foreground that Alfred said had been used for the tents when Mrs. Remington camped there.

The Woodcrafters exclaimed in surprise at the place that seemed made to order for them, and Zan added: “Fiji’s discovery can’t be better than this!”

The chauffeurs helped carry the outfits to the clearing on top of the cliff, and when all was done, Alfred said: “I ought to be goin’, Miss ’Lizabeth, ’cause your father comes in on that six o’clock train, you know, and it takes a full hour to get there from here!”

“Oh, it can’t be five o’clock yet, Alfred,” cried Elizabeth, surprised.

“It is five of five,” replied Miss Miller, consulting her watch.

“Good gracious! Where are those boys?” cried Zan.

“We surely must be at the wrong site, but we will remain where we are for to-night, anyway,” added Jane.

“Jim, if Fiji ’phones home to ask where we are try and direct him how to find us, will you?” said Zan.

Shortly after the automobiles left, Elizabeth spied a fleck of white out on the water, and with her experienced eye saw it bob up and down.

“Zan, bring the glasses! I’m sure I see the white launch,” cried she, keeping her eye on the distant spot.

“Where? I can’t see a thing but some white-caps,” said Zan, handing the glasses to Elizabeth.

“That’s because you never spent your Summers on an Island off the Maine coast like I have,” laughed the girl, focussing the glasses.

“It’s Fred and his crew, all right!” cried Elizabeth, passing the glasses to Zan.

“Oh yes, I can see them now, but aren’t they going very slow for a motor launch?” called Zan.

“Maybe something broke down and they can’t get in,” said Eleanor Wilbur, who had been more than pleasant and obliging all that week.

“No, they are labouring against wind and tides, I guess,” remarked Elizabeth, who was busy with a long strip of linen which happened to be packed with the stores when Mrs. Remington made up the hamper.

“What are you doing?” asked one of the girls.

“I’m using this linen Mother sent for bandages if we had to use them, for a signal flag. I’ll stick it out on that dead pine tree on the cliff and Fred will surely see it.”

“And we might build a smoke-fire,” suggested Zan.

“Yes, do that. Then we can signal them that we are lost,” chuckled Jane, running to gather red pine bark.

Finally, the steam whistle on the launch signalled that the boys had seen the smoke and flag, and later the launch beached where it made a good landing-place.

The girls helped the sailors transport their luggage from the launch to the clearing on the cliff, and Zan remarked: “I see you brought the aqua-plane.”

“Bet your life! Betsy would have sent us back for it had we forgotten to bring it,” laughed Fred, as he climbed the sandy side of the cliff.

Once on top where he found the Guide and other girls making camp, he said: “Where are the other boys? Fishing?”

“No, we never met each other as planned. I think they are camping at some other spot,” said Zan.

“They’ll hunt us up quick enough when it’s time for supper. You see we brought the hampers,” laughed Jane.

Fred looked serious, however. “We had a dreadful time rounding the Island where the sea sweeps in through the Narrows. It was all we could do to stem the current. Even as it was, we had to go way out of our road to avoid the swift tide.”

“You don’t think anything could have happened to them, do you?” cried Zan, anxiously.

“I shouldn’t wonder but what they have been over-turned,” now added Eleanor, with her pessimistic propensity.

“Not that at all, girls, only they may have been swept so far out of their course that paddles couldn’t help them along very fast. Then they may have to camp wherever they are,” said Fred.

“All the same, you know as well as I do, that lots of folks are drowned off this shore—’specially boys. You can read about a death that way every day!” persisted Eleanor.

“Then they didn’t know how to swim like Fiji and Jack do. Why, they’re regular water-rats!” replied Fred, optimistically.

“Swimming won’t help much if they have cramps! That sinks you like lead!” countered Eleanor again.

Miss Miller heard the whole conversation and also saw Zan and Jane turn pale when they first thought of danger to their brothers. Until this time they thought it a great joke that they had found such a fine site and were camping with all the foodstuff.

At Eleanor’s first exclamation the Guide had frowned, for her religion was one of practical common sense and cheerful optimism. She looked about for something to interest the girls and, at the same time, stop Eleanor from talking, so when she heard the last rejoinder to Fred’s attempts at encouraging Zan and Jane, she called to Eleanor:

“Will you help me unpack these hampers, while the other girls gather fire-wood? Zan, suppose Jane and you keep the signal fires burning on that cliff’s edge. The boys will see the smoke if they are near here.”

Eleanor walked slowly over to Miss Miller, frowning as she went. But the Guide failed to notice it as she was busy with the camp dishes and pans.

“Will you put these bags of groceries over in the box that stands in my tent?” asked the Guide, holding up the paper bags.

“Why must I play kitchen-mechanic while all the other girls are having a good time in the woods?” complained Eleanor.

At the words and tone, the Guide looked up amazed.

“Good gracious, I thought you would prefer to do this to stooping and collecting old wood,” said she, vexed at the girl.

“You take particular pains to make me do the unpleasant things, I notice. Now, when I was trying to prepare Zan and Jane for the worst, you called me to get me away from them. Don’t I know?” sneered Eleanor, loftily.

“Woodcrafters never prepare for the worst! It is our rule to always wait for the best and let the worst take care of itself!” declared Miss Miller, wondering what under the sun she was to do with this undesirable character.

“Oh! you are so preachy! One never takes a turn but you have a lecture ready—generally on this Woodcraft!” cried Eleanor impatiently. “The other girls flatter you by calling it ‘poesy’ and artistic temperament, but I call ‘a spade a spade’!”

“Do you?” queried Miss Miller, suddenly making up her mind what to do. “Then you won’t object if I ‘take the bull by the horns’—another old saying!”

“You may take anything by his horns if you choose, it won’t concern me in the least!” said Eleanor, disdainfully, as well as significantly.

“Then sit down right where you are!” ordered Miss Miller with a determined manner that made Eleanor glance at her in wonderment.

“Sit down, I said!”

“Why should I obey you?” questioned Eleanor, stubbornly.

“Because I am in command of this camp and what I say goes without questioning. Either do as I bid you or take your bag and start for home at once!”

“Wh—h—y! You couldn’t do that!” gasped Eleanor.

“We can oust you from camp and send you away but it is up to you whether you return home or hang about the woods.”

Eleanor had never camped before and it was a new experience she had looked forward to because of the joys claimed by the other Woodcrafters. But to wander in the woods alone in the dark was quite a foreign plan to the one she had anticipated. She was hungry, too, and being sent away at once meant going without supper. She glanced from the corners of her eyes to see just how far Miss Miller might carry out her threat, but the Guide was watching her with a stern expression.

Eleanor, not knowing what to do at the moment, sat down to gain time. Miss Miller, who feared she might weaken in her sudden and unprecedented manner of severity, immediately spoke.

“I have watched you most carefully for the past two weeks and I have seen things you never dreamed of! Now, I am going to have it out with you!”

At this, Eleanor went white and trembled. She cowered as if she expected a blow, but she refused to look at the Guide.

“You will remember a threat you made to May Randall the day you stopped to see how the girls were progressing with their work?” asked Miss Miller, referring to the lack of interest the girl displayed in carpentry and the unkind words she used to May.

“Oh for goodness’ sake don’t say a word about that old chest! I wish to goodness I had never seen May Randall and her Woodcraft box!” cried Eleanor, as if driven to desperation.

Miss Miller was as surprised now as the girl had been a few moments before, but she rallied much quicker than the guilty one. The truth flashed over her quick mind and she changed her query accordingly.

“It is a pity that you ever gave in to temptation. You certainly can’t blame your covert acts on May or any other being. The evil we do is absolutely our own fault, for every man is a free agent to choose what he will do. Sometimes it is fear or cowardice that drives one to do an evil deed but it is the downright criminal that obeys an evil idea or plan, knowing he is doing a thing that condemns him to the world and in his own estimation, too.”

“Well, what do you want to do about it? Did you call me over here to tell me what you thought of me? Why didn’t you do it before to-day, then I wouldn’t have come?” cried Eleanor, still defiantly.

“I hadn’t the least idea of speaking to you about May’s chest until you brought it upon yourself. I was going to mention something entirely different until you compelled me to say what I did just now.”

“And you kept this secret all to yourself this week?” cried Eleanor, looking at Miss Miller with a kindlier expression.

“Eleanor,” said the Guide, catching at that tiny hope of softening the stubborn girl, “I do not think another member in the Band dreams that you had anything to do with the missing chest, and I do not think anyone but you and I suspects the truth.”

“And you let me come with the Tribe knowing this about me?” Eleanor’s gaze dropped to the ground and she sat thinking.

According to Miss Miller’s code, when one began to think earnestly over anything, or tried introspection of one’s self, it was a symptom of recovery, even though there might be a long siege of diseased conditions before perfect health was attained. So she remained silent waiting for Eleanor to think some more.

“You’re either mighty fair to me or you’re keeping this thing quiet for fear others will hear of it and so belittle your influence with the girls,” finally declared Eleanor.

“Don’t you think you are judging unfairly, after you just said ‘I was fair’? Why should I hesitate to make you resign from our Tribe for doing a dastardly trick with May’s box? No one but you and I would ever know the truth about it, and I’m sure you wouldn’t mention it to anyone, because you are heartily ashamed of the deed. If I was afraid of others’ opinions about my Band of Girls, I would make you resign before any other tricks were perpetrated by you. But I am fair and I want to see you make good, now that you have this Woodcraft opportunity, hence I am talking to you instead of sending you away.”

“Then, all I can say, is, that you’re all right!” declared Eleanor. But in another second she felt suspicious again.

“I suppose, now that I’ve admitted the deed, you’ll have me up for a public reprimand. It goes with a teacher’s ideals of training!”

The Guide could not but admire the girl’s quick mental powers and thought what a wonderful woman she would make if her character and mind were but trained properly instead of along the lines of this present example.

“I thought we might arrange it this way, if I had your word of honour that you would work hard to destroy the ‘little foxes that destroy the vines’; you can replace the chest by leaving it at my home, or send it by messenger to the gymnasium Monday noon. I will put it in the closet and send a note to May saying that the box was found but the conditions for return were that no questions were to be asked. At the same time I expect you to volunteer the information, thus clearing the school children.”

Eleanor sat glowering at the Guide for full three minutes as if to read her true reasons for this leniency, but Miss Miller understood enough of psychology to realise that this was the great crisis. In that interchange of heart-readings, Eleanor saw only truth and loving sympathy shine from the woman’s eyes, and Miss Miller saw the adamant of wilfulness break ever so little.

The Guide knew that just so much love and forbearance as she really felt in her innermost heart for this misled girl, just so much could she influence and lift her at this crucial time. So she prayed, oh, so fervently, to the Great Spirit for help and light to do exactly the right thing. And that silent prayer must have been the glorified light that shone from her eyes for it led Eleanor to melt as she had never melted before. She leaned her head over on the grass and wept bitterly.

Miss Miller rose and left the repentant girl alone, while she noisily busied herself with the pots and pans. She knew that not words or pity but silent calling upon Omnipotence for strength and faith would be the balm that would help and heal this weak reed swayed by evil’s suggestions.

As the Guide washed some potatoes she said to herself in a low murmur: “Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil—for Thine is the Power!”

Then: “Miss Miller,” sounded a weak little voice at her side, “shall I wipe the dishes with a clean towel?”

“Yes, dear, I wish you would.”

And that was all.

“Guess what we found, Miss Miller?” called a chorus of voices, as the fire-gatherers returned with armfuls of dry wood.

“Mushrooms?”

“Wh—hy, who told you?” cried the girls, looking about for the messenger.

“That little bird just flew by and whispered it in my ear,” laughed Miss Miller, pointing to a great sea-gull that hovered over their heads.

Everyone laughed and Jane added: “Yes, mushrooms but not enough for all. If we only had a steak they would make a fine sauce.”

“Oh gee! That reminds me I forgot my donation to the party!” cried Bob Baker, springing up from the grass where he had thrown himself, and running down to the launch.

“Bob trawled all the way and caught some pretty good sized fish. I thought all decent sized fish were driven out of these waters by the traffic and pollution from sewers, but I was mistaken,” explained Fred, watching Bob run back with his catch.

“Now we can use the mushrooms!” cried Zan.

“Fred, why don’t you cook the fish the way father taught us on Sunset Island?” asked Elizabeth.

“Just as Miss Miller says,” replied Fred, looking at the Guide.

“Miss Miller says cook the whole supper if you like, then we can take a swim. You boys have had your dip, you know,” laughed she.

“Now, how did you know that? We boys said we wouldn’t let you know it!” cried Bob.

“Really, you are uncanny, Miss Miller,” added Fred.

“Anyone could tell Bob had been in, from his damp curly pate, and Billy still has the brine sticking up about his scalp. If I should need any further evidence I might say that one of the younger boys put on Fred’s socks by mistake, or else he made a blunder when he mentioned his size to the clerk who sold them,” said the Guide, smiling.

Everyone glanced at Billy’s feet, and lo! the socks were hanging loosely down over his shoes, several sizes too large for him, while Fred’s turned-up white trousers showed socks so tight that they stopped the circulation at the top, but the tops only reached to the place where his shoes ended.

A peal of laughter rang out and echoed through the woods at the sight the three surprised boys made, and Zan said:

“Just for that, you have to cook supper while we take a dip!”

“We’re game. Not because we took a swim before we got here, but because you’ve got such an all-round fine clairvoyant!” laughed Fred, looking at Miss Miller with admiration.

“Shall we wait supper for Fiji and Jack?” asked Bob.

“They’ll be given something should they come straggling in late, but I firmly believe they went to their own camp-site and are now pitying us for not having found them,” said Miss Miller.

“And you can leave it to Jack to have something to eat! He never takes a chance on going without a square meal!” added Jane.

“We’ll keep the signal-fire going all night and when it is dark they can see it and get their bearings for us in the morning,” suggested Fred.

So the girls ran to their tents to hurry into bathing suits and take a swim before the call came for supper.