"I--I thought I did."

"I wonder when they left?" mused Billy.

"Larry, what have you to say about that?" demanded George Baker.

"Absolutely nothing."

"They went away during your watch."

"You can't blame him," answered Sam. "Anybody would have been fooled under the circ.u.mstances."

"Don't try to make lame excuses," jeered Billy. "Be a man and own up.

They outwitted you, and that's all there is about it. Now, what are we going to do?"

"Get out the launch and go on a hunt for them," declared George. "Any one got a better plan?"

No one had. They had no plans at all, but were too dazed by this last trick that had been played on them to be able to think at all clearly.

They reached the sh.o.r.e and George stepped out. His foot had no more than touched the ground before that same wailing cry rang in their ears again.

"I tell you it's a banshee," cried Larry, his shock of red hair fairly standing on end.

"We will attend to the ghosts after we have found the 'Red Rover',"

answered George. His face had paled slightly at the sound, and he admitted to himself that he felt creepy. He was glad that they were going away from their camp for a time. It was evident that whatever the noise might be, it was intended to express disapproval of their presence on the island. George remembered what Harriet Burrell had said about ghosts on the previous evening. He had laughed at it at the time. He did not laugh now. He was thinking and thinking seriously.

No further cries were heard that morning. The boys put out their campfire and set the camp to rights, Billy in the meantime being engaged in cleaning and oiling his motor preparatory to the morning run around the island and along the sh.o.r.e of the mainland.

It was not exactly a joyous party that set out in the launch half an hour later. They were chagrined at losing the contest and disgusted that they should have fallen such easy victims to the ingenious schemes of the girls.

"Do you know, I have been thinking," spoke up Larry after they had started.

"That's something new," jeered Sam.

"I have been wondering if all the strange things that have occurred to the girls haven't been part of a plan to keep us stirred up."

"Larry, I'm ashamed of you," exclaimed George indignantly. "Those girls may be full of mischief, but they don't tell lies. They told us the truth, about their mysterious enemy, and I don't want to hear any boy intimate that they haven't. He and I will have a falling out right on the spot, if he does."

"I apologize. I--I guess I didn't mean it that way," stammered Larry.

"They are too clever for us, that's all there is to it," added George.

"Run into that cove, please, Billy. There is something that looks like a red boat in there."

The something proved to be a small boathouse painted red. It did resemble the "Red Rover" somewhat. They headed out of the cove, saying little, but keeping up a lively thinking. The launch was run up the sh.o.r.e of the mainland for several miles.

"Shall I turn back?" asked Billy.

"You might as well," nodded George. "I would suggest that we circle the island once more. Shut down as low as you can. We must keep a sharp lookout. There may be some way of getting a boat out of sight. I am positive that they are about here somewhere."

The encircling of the island was attended with no better results. Not a trace of either Meadow-Brook Girls or "Red Rover" was discovered.

Disgusted and disappointed the boys headed the launch toward home.

"I'll tell you what we will do," declared George as they were landing.

"We will spread out and search the island. I can't get the idea out of my mind that they are not far away."

"But what would they do with their boat? It isn't anywhere in the lake about here, and surely they couldn't drag it ash.o.r.e," objected Billy.

"I don't know. I am beginning to think those girls can do almost anything they set out to do. They are a clever lot. I never knew them to start anything yet that they didn't go through with, usually ending up by giving us the worst of it."

Sam hopped ash.o.r.e first and ran up to the tent. He peered in, then uttered a yell.

"Somebody's been here," he cried. "Wow!"

The boys hurried up to the tent. The interior was in confusion. The contents of the tent had been piled in a great heap in the middle of the floor. A suit of khaki had been draped over sticks and leaned against the side of the tent, looking like a live man at first glance. Outside an oven had been constructed of rocks, and a fire put under it. On a flat stone the coffee pot stood ready. The table had been set, the potatoes pared and sliced ready for frying, in fact everything was ready for the noon meal with the exception of the cooking.

The boys looked at each other then burst out laughing.

"We've had company," grinned George.

"I wish they would come every day," added Larry. "They have sense whoever they are, even if they turn our tent topsy-turvy. But wait.

We've got those girls now. We know they are somewhere about, and we'll find them if it takes all day and all night to do it."

CHAPTER XIX

THE TRAMP CLUB FINDS A CLUE

"h.e.l.lo! What's this?"

Larry, stooping over, picked up a piece of filmy linen.

"A handkerchief, isn't it?" asked Sam.

"Let me see that, please," demanded George Baker. Larry handed it to him. "It's a girl's handkerchief, boys. And here are two initials in one corner. h.e.l.lo! 'H.B.' What does that stand for?"

"It stands for 'Have Been'," declared Larry. "Meaning that they have been here. But they needn't have told us. We know that."

"Yes; they've been here," replied George promptly. "Those initials stand for 'Harriet Burrell.' They mean that the Meadow-Brook Girls have been here and turned our tent upside down. But they made amends by getting our noon meal started. I suppose we had better forgive them. What do you say, fellows?"

"Of course," nodded Billy. The others agreed.

"Miss Burrell, having no card, left her handkerchief. But fellows, while we are fussing around here, they may be getting away again. This may be another of their tricks," declared George. "I would suggest, Billy, that you eat your luncheon at once, then run out the launch and keep sailing around to head them off in case they are running away."

To this proposition, Billy demurred. He did not fancy going away by himself.

"I'll tell you what I'll do," he proposed. "I'll eat luncheon with you first. They can't get far away before I get out, and even if they did I should overhaul them. You know that old scow can be seen for miles."

"I notice we weren't able to see it a few rods from us," observed George dryly. "All right. Start the potatoes to frying. Did they hide the ham?"