Dorothy Dale's Camping Days Part 13

Tavia gathered up some apples, and the others took their berry baskets. They walked slowly over the hill back to the camp. Jack was waiting for them.

"Say, girls!" he began as they neared the dining room steps, "the boys have a great scheme on for to-morrow. But I am not to tell you about it."

"Isn't that lovely," came from Tavia in rather mocking tones.

"But I am commissioned to tell you," he went on with an arch look at Tavia, "that you are to rest this afternoon for sufficient unto to-morrow is the weariness thereof."

Then they began to prepare lunch, but Tavia remained outside, asking Jack some seemingly foolish questions.

CHAPTER X

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF TAVIA

After a morning spent in antic.i.p.ation of the good time Jack had promised (and Jack and his friends did know how to give the girls a good time) something happened just as they were about to start off to the woods.

Tavia was missing!

At first the matter was taken as a joke, as it would be quite like Tavia to run off and hide in the hay loft, or in any other outlandish place; but when, after all kinds of calls, and a thorough search of the premises, she failed to be located, there was reasonable alarm among the campers. The Hays girls from Camp Happy-go-Lucky, had joined the party that intended going into the deep woods, so they, too, aided in the search for Tavia.

"I give up," said Jack finally, mopping his forehead, for in spite of the beautiful bracing air of the mountains, the act of running over the hill and into the valleys made him perspire.

"Isn't it queer!" exclaimed Dorothy, thoroughly alarmed. "I have a feeling that something has happened to her."

"Don't you worry," Jack suggested. "You will be sure to find out that Tavia has happened to something. She has a faculty for that sort of thing. Let us go off on a day's fun. No use spoiling it all on account of a whim--I am sure it is nothing more."

"She did complain of a headache," Cologne remembered, "and I gave her a little soda. She may have thought it best to hide with the headache rather than to worry us about it."

"We haven't tried the brook," suggested pretty Hazel Hays. "I am always afraid of brooks."

"But Tavia swims like a fish," declared Dorothy. "I would never think of harm coming to her in the water."

"Let's try, at any rate," agreed Jack, who never opposed Hazel.

"Although, unless that big frog gobbled her up, I cannot imagine any possible danger."

At this the party set off over the hill to the frog pond. Hazel trudged along with Jack, Brendon Hays divided his attention between Dorothy and Cologne, while a very little young man, Claud Miller, by name, and the midget by reputation, took care of Nathalie Weston, a visitor at Camp Lucky.

Every one could joke but Dorothy. To her the situation was beyond that.

"I'll wager we find her up a tree eating apples," lisped Claud. "I never saw a girl so fond of sweet apples as Miss Tavia. She told me so herself."

"Told you, you never saw a girl--now Claud! Don't get excited that way. It's dreadfully hard on your nerves and on your friends."

"But I say, now, Jack----"

"Claud, dear, don't. Save it until we find Tavia, and then say to your heart's content."

Dorothy had run on ahead and was now looking over the little rustic bridge into the frog pond. The water was not deep, but there were plainly footprints along its muddy edge.

"There has been some one here to-day," declared Cologne, "and no one ever comes on our grounds--away up here at any rate."

"They are the footprints of a man," Jack decided. "Did Tavia, by any means, know a man who wore boots size ten?"

"The only folks she knew in these parts are the Lamberts," answered Cologne. "And she did say, even as late as yesterday, that she would run over to see a rehearsal there--when I wasn't looking."

"Jolly!" exclaimed Claud. "I have been wishing so much for a chance to know that younger Lamb. She's the very sweetest----"

"Spring lamb?" asked Cologne, teasingly. "Claud, you should never take spring lamb upon the recommendation of a strange butcher. It might turn out to be mutton."

This sally caused Claud to laugh so vigorously, that he held his hand over his watch pocket apprehensively.

Dorothy was looking under the black bridge. The footprints seemed to turn in beneath the culvert, and then they were lost in the deep, dark mud.

Not one, except perhaps Cologne, knew the thoughts that stirred Dorothy so riotously. What if Tavia had gone over to Lamberts, and so would incur the displeasure of their hostess? Or, if she had met that queer man? But she could not have done that! Reckless as she was, she could not be unaware of the danger of doing such a fool-hardy thing as that!

"I'm going down under that oak tree," declared Hazel, with an arch glance at Jack. "There's trout in that stream, and it's too late to go over to Moose Hill, or Deer Hollow which ever it is."

"Neither," replied Jack. "It's Moose on the level. Yes, we may as well explore Trout Trammel--though I doubt if they'll come up even at the sight of those fly colors you wear, Hazel."

"Don't you like this suit? Why it's the very thing--all the way from New York. And just see the navy emblem."

The invitation brought Jack up very close to the sleeve of Hazel's sailor suit. Yes, he liked that emblem, first rate, and he said so, once or twice.

"I vote for a trip to the Lambs," voiced the dainty Claud. "If no one else wants to go I don't mind, in the least, running over and making inquiries."

"Oh, don't run, Claud;" cautioned Jack. "It's dreadful on your watch pocket. Just walk over and give my love to the girl who wears the rainbow around her head. Tell her that I saw her and she will guess the rest."

"Well, if she happens to be out on the lawn, might I ask her to join in this girl-hunt?"

"Oh, you're hunting a lot!" exclaimed Cologne in something like impatience. "Now, Claud, this it no joke! We are out to find our lively-loving, luckless little friend, Tavia."

"I'm afraid it's useless," sighed Dorothy. "We may just as well wait--perhaps she will return at lunch time."

But lunch time came, and lunch time went by, without any trace or track of Tavia being discovered.

Finally Dorothy broke down, and went to her own room. Cologne followed her, and there, in the secret nook in the big camp farm, the two girls discussed every possible clause of the case, and tried with heroic effort to shed some light on the mystery.

"Was it the Lamberts? Or could it be----"

"Oh, she would never go off with a stranger," declared Dorothy over and over again. "Surely our Tavia has more common sense than that."

"But it is so lonely up here--no," Cologne corrected herself, "you are right, of course, Dorothy. She will be back--just as soon as she feels like coming. That's Tavia!"

But they little knew the danger to which the younger girl had unwittingly exposed herself.

No wonder Tavia could not be found within or without the precincts of the camp.