Harriet caught her breath sharply.

"It ith a mean thhame," declared Tommy in a voice that reached every person in the tent. "I gueth the banshee mutht have done it."

A chorus of giggles greeted this sally. The laughter was suppressed by the Chief Guardian.

"We will leave the mystery of the doctored soup as it stands until after breakfast to-morrow morning," announced Mrs. Livingston. "After that, if the guilty girl makes no confession in the meantime, we shall begin an investigation of our own."

The Chief Guardian rose, the girls doing likewise, after which they filed out of the tent. Once outside they began to talk excitedly. Most of them took sides with Harriet Burrell. They did not believe she could have been guilty of such a trick. Besides, she would be defeating her own ambitions if she did do so. She was certain to lose the coveted "honor." Despite this, however, there were those who did believe that Harriet had put soap in the consomme.

It had been an evening full of excitement and unexpected happenings. And now Harriet Burrell would not have another opportunity to win her "honor"

in this line until three months had passed.

Harriet's face was stony as she fled to her tent. Jane McCarthy reached the tent a few minutes behind her friend. Jane threw her arms about Harriet, expressing her opinion of the whole affair in her own hot-headed way. Harriet's eyes were dry but her cheeks were hot. She was holding herself well in hand, yet when she spoke there was a slight quaver in her voice. She was not a girl given to tears.

"I don't care for the 'honor' so much," Harriet said, "but I just can't stand it to have the girls believing deep down in their hearts that I could have done that awful thing. They will say it; at least some of them will."

"I dare them to!" flamed Jane. "Just let me hear them. Oh, just let me hear one girl saying a word about Harriet Burrell. Oh!"

"I don't want you to mix in this trouble at all, Jane," objected Harriet.

"It is bad enough as it is. If I could find out who the guilty one is----"

"What would you do if you did find out?" demanded Jane.

"I don't know. Nothing I suppose," returned Harriet with a wan smile.

"That's just it. You've got to fight if you don't want to get walked on in this world. My dad says so. He's a fighter, he is, little one, and he has a daughter who can take her own part and half a dozen other people's besides. My sleeves will be rolled up all the time after this. You watch me get into action when I discover the girl, and----"

"I think you had better leave all that to me, Miss McCarthy," advised a voice at the door of the tent.

At the first sound of the voice Harriet thought either Patricia or Cora had come in. Then she saw that it was Mrs. Livingston.

"Please don't involve yourself in difficulties, my dear. Now, will you leave us, please! I wish to speak alone with Miss Burrell."

Jane went outside the tent where she paced up and down waiting until the Chief Guardian should come out, when Jane intended to return to the tent and talk further with her friend. She intercepted the other Meadow-Brook Girls who had come over to sympathize with Harriet. All save Tommy returned to their own tents.

"Now, my dear," said Mrs. Livingston, seating herself beside Harriet on the edge of the latter's cot, "please do not take this quite so hard. You will have plenty of opportunity to win other 'honors' before leaving Camp Wau-Wau."

"It is not the loss of the 'honor' that is disturbing me, Mrs. Livingston.

It is the thought that you suspected me of being the author of that trick," answered Harriet quite frankly. "You will understand that I am not saying this in an impertinent sense."

"My dear girl, I know of course that you are not. Let me tell you something. It may serve to make you feel this less keenly. I sought for the moment to be a little harsh with you thinking that possibly the girl who had done this might rise and confess at once rather than see you bear the burden of the accusation?"

"There is little danger of her doing that."

"So I infer. But you have a suspicion as to who she may be?" added the Chief Guardian quickly.

"I may have, but I should not wish to name any one. You see my suspicion may be entirely wrong. In fact I am convinced that it is."

"My child, if you have a well-founded suspicion of any girl here you should make it known to me. It is your duty to do that."

"That is just the trouble," answered Harriet with a faint smile. "My suspicion is not a well founded one. Even if it were I should not be sure that I ought to tell you."

"I will not press you to tell me, my dear. I will leave it all to your good judgment. At breakfast to-morrow morning I shall announce that you are in no way held to blame for this unpleasant incident."

With a kind "good night, Miss Burrell," the Chief Guardian left Harriet.

Patricia and Cora were about to enter the tent when they espied Jane walking up and down.

"On guard, eh?" sneered Patricia.

Jane strolled over, peered down impudently into the face of Patricia Scott, gazing at the girl for all of half a minute.

"Yes," answered Jane shortly, then turned her back on the two girls.

CHAPTER XIX

WHEN THE STORM BROKE

Instead of entering the tent after Crazy Jane's snub, Patricia and Cora Kidder gazed at the girl pacing back and forth before it, then laughing sarcastically turned and walked away. Mrs. Livingston saw them in the distance when she came out, but her attention was immediately centred on Jane.

"Miss McCarthy," she said. "I wouldn't keep Harriet up long, were I in your place. The poor girl has had a trying time of it this evening. Were the two girls who just walked away from here, Miss Scott and Miss Kidder?"

"Yes, ma'am. And I gave them a good stiff punch--I mean I told them--I let them know how much I loved them."

"Try to love every one, Miss McCarthy. It doesn't pay for one to go about with any other feeling in the heart."

"I guess I must have been born with the other feeling," returned Crazy Jane. "But at any rate, I know I have the other feeling now."

"Try to be like Miss Burrell, sweet and forgiving. Good night."

"Good night, Mrs. Livingston. I'll just say 'good night' to Harriet. I won't stay a minute."

Jane was true to her word. She ran into the tent and gathering Harriet in her arms, kissed her on the forehead, very gently, too, for Jane; after which the impulsive girl ran out without giving Harriet a chance to say a word.

The hour for "lights out" not having arrived, most of the girls were out by the campfire chatting. Harriet preferred to be alone on this occasion.

She did not feel equal to talking with any one. She felt that the day had been a miserable failure. There had been two days of it. First, everything in the kitchen had gone wrong. This condition had somewhat improved after Patricia had left the kitchen, only to become many times worse after three days had elapsed.

Harriet tried to reason out the mystery. Her first thought was that Patricia might have had something to do with the spoiling of the soup. But she had not the slightest proof that Patricia was the culprit.

Harriet was at a loss to know what to do. The problem was too much for her. Her head whirled with her effort to solve it Before retiring for the night, however, she moved her cot to the extreme rear of the tent so that the light would not be so strong in her eyes when Patricia and Cora came in to retire. After a time Harriet dropped off to sleep. She was awakened by voices outside at the rear of the tent.

The light was out and the tent was in darkness. Harriet did not know what time it was, but hearing regular breathing she decided that of course the two girls must have come in and retired without having awakened her. But as Harriet listened she recognized the voices. They were outside the tent within a yard of her head at the moment.

"To 'The Pines'?" came the question in Patricia's voice.