Listers Great Adventure | Page 8

far, because she must be in the loop between the river and the
lake. But Harry did go to meet you, and when he found you had not
come back went off again with Bob. I expect they'll soon arrive with
Barbara."
They waited for half-an-hour, and then, when the splash of paddles
stole out of the dark, ran down to the beach. Presently a double-ended
bateau crossed the beam of light and grounded. A young man helped
Barbara out and gave her his arm.
"You mustn't bother, Harry. I can walk all right," she said.
"Get hold," said Vernon. "You're not going to walk. If you're obstinate,
I'll carry you."
Barbara leaned upon his arm, but her color was high and her look
strained when he helped her across the stones. Harry Vernon was a tall,

thin, wiry Canadian, with a quiet face. When he got to the tent he
opened the curtain, and beckoning Mrs. Cartwright, pushed Barbara
inside.
"You'll give her some supper, ma'am, and I'll chase the others off," he
said. "The little girl's tired and mustn't be disturbed."
Barbara gave him a grateful look and the blood came to his sunburned
skin.
"I am a little tired," she declared, and added, too quietly for Mrs.
Cartwright to hear: "You're a white man."
Vernon pulled the curtain across, and joining the others, lighted a
cigarette.
"The girls stopped at False Point, two miles short of the spot we fixed,"
he said. "I reckon Bob's directions were not plain enough. Since we
didn't come along, they started back by the loggers' trail, while we went
to look for them by the other track. At the pool, they thought they heard
a wolf. That's so, Miss Hyslop?"
"Yes," said Grace. "I ran away and thought I heard Barbara following.
But what happened afterwards?"
"She fell. Hurt her foot, had to stop, and then couldn't make good time.
We found her limping along, and shoved through the bush for the river,
so she needn't walk. Well, I think that's all."
It was plausible, but Grace was not altogether satisfied. Moreover, she
imagined Vernon was not, and noted that Mrs. Vernon gave him a
thoughtful glance. All the same, there was nothing to be said, and she
went to her tent.
At daybreak Vernon left the camp, and when he reached the pool
walked round its edge and then sat down and lighted his pipe. A few
yards in front, a number of faint marks were printed on a belt of sand.
By and by he heard steps, and frowned when Winter came out from an

opening in the row of trunks. They were friends, and Bob was a very
good sort, but Vernon would sooner he had stopped away.
"Hallo!" he said. "Why have you come along?"
"I lost my hunting-knife," Winter replied. "It was hooked to my belt
and I thought the clip let go when we helped Miss Hyslop over the big
log. A bully knife; I wanted to find the thing." He paused and smiled
when he resumed: "I reckon you pulled out of camp to meditate?"
Vernon hesitated. Had Winter stopped a few yards off, he would have
begun some banter and drawn him away from the pool. Bob was a
woodsman and his eyes were keen. The sun was, however, rising
behind the pines and a beam of light touched the sand. There was no
use in trying to hide the marks. In fact, Vernon imagined Bob had seen
them.
"No," he said. "I thought I'd try to trail the wolf Miss Hyslop talked
about."
"Looks as if you'd found some tracks," Winter remarked. "Well, they're
not a wolf's." He sat down opposite Vernon. "A man's! I saw another at
a soft spot. He followed the girls from the lake and stopped for some
time. I allow I reckoned on something like that."
Vernon made an experiment. "Might have been a packer going to a
logging camp, or perhaps an Indian."
"Shucks!" said Winter, although he gave Vernon a sympathetic smile.
"There are no Indians about the lake and packers' boots don't make
marks like those. A city boot and a city man! A fellow who's wise to
the bush lifts his feet. Anyhow, I reckon he doesn't belong to your
crowd."
"A sure thing!" Vernon agreed. "I can fix where all the boys were.
Besides, if somebody in our lot had wanted to talk to Miss Hyslop, he
wouldn't have hung around in the woods. My mother's pretty fastidious
about her guests. Well, I'll own up the thing bothers me."

Winter nodded. Harry was frank and honest, and Bob imagined he had
felt Barbara Hyslop's charm. He was sorry for Harry. The thing was
awkward.
"What are you going to do about it?" he asked.
"To