CHAPTER XXIV

CHAPTER XXIV

NATALIE IS GONE

NATALIE IS GONE

NATALIE IS GONE

Camp Fire Girls and camping boys gathered in a little group on the edge of the lake, standing about Jack, who was mutely pointing to a stake in the water.

“There’s where she was tied,” he said. “And now she’s gone!”

“Maybe she floated away,” suggested Blake.

“Not much!” cried Jack. “I haven’t learned to tie all sorts of sailor knots now to slip up and make a grannie-hitch at this day. That canoe couldn’t come untied unless some one did it.”

“And it’s out of sight now,” remarked Phil, as he swept his eyes over the surface of the lake. “Hadn’t we better get after it in the motor-boat? Have we any gas?”

“I forgot to look. When I saw the canoe gone I got all worked up.”

“Did it belong to you boys?” asked Natalie.

“No, and that’s the worst of it. We hired it over at Glen’s dock,” said Jack, “and he’s sure to charge us double what it was worth if we don’t return it at the end of the season.”

“When did you notice it was gone?” asked Mrs. Bonnell.

“Just now. Of course it was gone when we came back here from our trip, but we didn’t notice it, I guess. But it’s sure gone all right,” and Jack added his searching gaze to that of his two chums. But on the darkening surface of the lake there was no such craft to be seen as the small green canoe the boys had hired.

“Let’s get right out in the motor,” proposed Jack, who had taken the screw-plug from the gasoline tank in the bow, and ascertained, by dipping in a stick, that there was fuel enough to run to the Point and back.

“Better wait until after supper,” advised Marie. “Come over to our camp, boys, and we’ll give you the best meal we can get up in a hurry. Then we’ll go over to the Point with you.”

“But we want to look for our canoe,” insisted Phil.

“I know,” replied his sister, “but we’ve got to go to the Point anyhow. You need some supplies, and the canoe is just as likely to be in that direction as any other.”

“Not much!” insisted Jack. “The Gypsies wouldn’t take it over that way—too many chances of being seen.”

“What makes you think the Gypsies took it?” asked Mabel.

“Of course they took it!” cried Jack. “Who else? We come back to find our camp looted, to quote Natalie, and——”

“Oh, Jack! You’re making fun of me?” she exclaimed.

“I am not, Nat! Looted is a dandy word. Anyhow, our camp is cleaned out, Blake’s best handkerchief is gone, and good riddance to that Italian opera, I claim——”

“You wait!” threatened the loser. “I’ll get even with you all right!”

“And then our canoe is gone,” went on Jack, ignoring the protest. “The Gypsies must have been going about the lake in some kind of boat. They saw our camp deserted, and helped themselves. Then they towed off our canoe.”

“But how do you account for them not taking anything from our camp?” asked Mabel.

“Oh, they were too polite,” said Blake. “Besides, they may not have had time. Well, if we’re going to get a move on, let’s do it!”

“Come over in about fifteen minutes,” suggested Mrs. Bonnell. “We’ll be ready for you then. Come on, girls,” and she led the way back to Dogwood camp, leaving the boys to discuss among themselves the queer happenings, while the girls were no less exercised over what had occurred.

“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Natalie. “I don’t like these Gypsies so near at hand. It makes me nervous.”

“They’re not near,” said Mabel. “Why, are you afraid of being kidnapped?”

“Hardly,” replied Natalie. “But who knows? They may take all our clothes some day when we’re not at camp, and we’d have to go home in these suits.”

“If they all became us as well as yours does you, Nat,” said the Guardian, “I’m sure we wouldn’t object. I’m sure mine makes me look ever so much stouter. I really must exercise more and eat less.”

“If the Gypsies make off with our larder we’ll all of us eat less,” suggested Alice with a laugh. “Well, we must see what we can give the boys. I know they must be nearly famished.”

And from the manner in which the campers of Stony Point did justice to the hasty meal that the Camp Fire Girls prepared, it was evident that Alice’s conjecture was right.

“And now for the Point!” cried Blake. “Shall we help you lock up, girls?”

“Such locking as we can do,” spoke Marie. “I wish there was some way of making a tent more secure. The next time we go camping we must have a log cabin. We can lock that.”

“Leave a lantern burning,” suggested Phil. “That will make any unwelcome visitors think some one is at home. That’s what we always do.”

The girls agreed that this might be a good plan, and a light was left within the tent, securely fastened against the possibility of an upset, should a squirrel or other prowler enter in search of food. Another lantern was lighted and hung outside, and the boys, having done likewise at their camp, the motor-boat was gotten in readiness for the trip to the Point after supplies.

“And we’ll keep a lookout for our canoe on the way,” suggested Phil.

“Not much chance of spotting it after dark,” replied Blake.

“But if we see a rowboat, or one canoe towing another we’ll sort of sneak up and take a look,” remarked Jack.

“Oh, boys!” cried Natalie, “please don’t have any—unpleasantness.”

“Unpleasantness is—good!” affirmed Phil. “We’ll just throw them overboard, Nat, if we find any of them have our canoe, and then all the unpleasantness will be on their side.”

“Oh, boys! You couldn’t!” and she seemed really alarmed.

“Of course they won’t,” said Alice witheringly. “Don’t let them scare you.”

“Well, we’re going to get our canoe,” declared Phil doggedly.

But though the boys kept a sharp lookout on their way to the Point they saw no signs of their missing craft. Once at the Point, which was a sort of gathering place for the campers and cottagers from all the coves and inlets of the lake, the boys gave their orders for groceries, and then danced with the girls, for the nightly hops were a feature there.

“‘A good time was had by all,’ as the Weekly Clarion of Hensfoot Corners will say next week,” remarked Blake, as the little party prepared to go back to camp.

“Itwasenjoyable,” declared Natalie who was very fond of dancing. “I hated to come away.”

“I’ll go back with you,” offered Blake. “We can get a boat to bring us over.”

“You’ll do nothing of the kind!” exclaimed Mrs. Bonnell, with a laugh. “It’s time my Camp Fire Girls were home and in bed.”

“Oh, very well, Nat,” sighed Blake. “Some other time.”

They found their camps undisturbed, the lighted lanterns seemingly serving them well in their absence. But, as on the going trip, there was no sign of the missing canoe. Nor did a casual search the boys made the next day bring it to light.

They reported their loss to the local authorities, and one of the constables said he would do what he could to find the craft.

“Though it isn’t very hopeful,” he told them. “It’s so easy to paint a canoe over, and they all look alike.”

The officer seemed more interested in hearing about the location of the Gypsy wagons and tents at Bear Pond, and made a trip to the girls’ camp to learn about them. He was given the directions to find it, and said he would make an investigation at once.

“And, if you can,” urged Mabel, “see if you can get back my mother’s ring.”

“I will,” he promised, but the girls well knew that there was but a small chance of success.

“Maybe we should have told him about the haunted mill,” suggested Natalie.

“No!” declared Mrs. Bonnell. “That was only some foolish fancy of that hermit. The mill isn’t haunted.”

“Of course not,” Natalie agreed, “but I’m sure I saw a face at the window that day.”

But nothing was said to the constable about it.

Several days passed, and nothing new developed. The boys did not find their canoe, and nothing was heard about the visit of the constable to the Gypsy camp.

The Camp Fire Girls and their brothers and friend, went on excursions together, and had a general good time. The summer had been an ideal one, so far, they all agreed. The girls did some more clay work, and Mrs. Bonnell sent to the Camp Fire Headquarters for a hand loom on which to make bead work.

“For you girls will soon be Fire Makers,” she said, “and will want to wear some of the bead head-bands. You can begin weaving your particular designs now. Natalie can make a pine tree for her symbol, Marie a bird, Mabel an ear of corn, and Alice an Indian tepee.”

“I think Natalie will look perfectly stunning with a bead head-band over her black hair,” whispered Marie.

“She’s stunning as she is now—a regular Pocahontas,” answered Mabel.

The girls were delighted with the bead work, and kept at it so steadily that the boys complained they would not “come out and play.”

It was late one afternoon when Mrs. Bonnell, who had been walking through the woods with Marie, who wanted to look for a certain flower, came back. She had left Natalie and Mabel together, at their bead work.

“Where’s Natalie?” asked the Guardian. “I have a lovely idea for her bead head-band.”

“She went out to meet you,” said Mabel. “Some time ago. Didn’t you see her?”

“No!” exclaimed Mrs. Bonnell, as she looked at the lengthening shadows over the lake. “I—wish—she would come back.”

In spite of themselves the girls and their Guardian felt a chill of fear strike to their hearts.

“Let’s call!” suggested Marie.

They united their voices in Natalie’s name, varying the summons with “Wo-he-lo!” and “Dogwood camp!”

“What’s the matter?” asked Blake, who came running over a little later.

“Natalie is missing!” exclaimed Mabel. “Oh, Blake, what could have happened to her?”

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