There followed another period of silence, but much more brief than the previous one.  It was then that Harriet Burrell was able to distinguish the figure of a man—­that is, his head and shoulders.  The night was too dark to enable her to do more than decide upon what it was.

Now he began creeping cautiously toward the camp, going only a few paces at a time, then halting to listen.  Harriet moved with him, though not so fast.  She was stepping directly toward the camp, which lay directly ahead of her, whereas the man was following a different course with the same destination in view.  When he moved, Harriet moved; when he halted, she did so.  Halting a second too late would undoubtedly reveal her presence, hence the girl exercised unusual caution, making little more disturbance than a cat stalking its prey.  Once she sank down noiselessly when, by a movement of the head and shoulders, she discovered that the man was turning to look behind him.

“If he gets within sight of the camp he will see that one of the party is missing, if he knows how many of us there are,” reasoned the young woman shrewdly.  “I must be on my guard when he discovers that, or something may happen.”  Harriet might have called out to warn her companions, but that was not a part of her plan as yet.

About seventy-five yards had been traversed in this manner when a sudden change came over the scene, for, between Harriet Burrell and the intruder whom she was stalking, the camp of the Meadow-Brook Girls was soon to be thrown into wild turmoil and the young woman’s utmost expectations were to be more than realized.

CHAPTER XXII

A ROUT AND A CAPTURE

The intruder had halted.  Harriet knew that from his position he could see the camp.  From her position it was not visible.  She saw the man halt, peer, then suddenly straighten up and glance about him apprehensively.  Being now between her and the light shed by the campfire, the girl was able to observe his movements quite clearly.

“He suspects something,” quivered Harriet.  But being at a loss as to what to do next the girl dropped swiftly to the ground, rising almost the next second.  She was leaning well forward, peering at the figure with all the concentration she could bring to bear.  The intruder had by this time again directed his attention to the camp.  There was now in the man’s hands something that he seemed to be leveling over the tops of the bushes amid which he was standing.

Harriet Burrell drew her right hand cautiously above her shoulder.  That hand held a stone.  Suddenly the stone cut through the bushes about a foot to the right of the intruder’s shoulder.  He jumped, but before he could decide upon what his next move should be a second and larger stone smote him between the shoulders.  Then followed a perfect rain of stones.  Some hit him, others did not.