“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?”