"So that's what you've been so mysterious about these last few days," commented Sid. "I thought something was up. Of course it's all right. I sha'n't annoy Miss Harrison, only--Oh, what's the use!" and he went on with his preparations. It was the morning of the day of the annual sophomore picnic, and there was much excitement, especially in the ranks of the second-year men, and the more or less numerous fair ones who counted on being taken to the charming little island in the middle of Lake Tonoka. The affair was always held at this season of the year, when there was no danger of an attack from the freshmen students, who, by this time, had settled down into something approaching dignity. "You're not going to back out, because she--Miss Harrison--is coming, are you?" asked Phil, as he saw Sid cease his arrangements for dressing. "No--no--of course not. I was just--just thinking. I'll take my camera and specimen box along, and do a little work in biology and nature study. I need a little freshening up for the final exams. I probably won't see much of you chaps." Phil and Tom departed ahead of Sid, who busied himself with his camera, his specimen box and his cyanide bottle, with which latter he painlessly killed such bugs and butterflies as he captured. "We'll see you later," called Tom, as, with his blue tie very much in evidence, he and Phil went to get the girls. A picnic is pretty much the same the world over, even if it is gotten up by a college crowd, and the one on Crest Island was no exception. There was the usual screaming of the girls when the boats tipped, and the usual strolling in shady nooks by youths and maidens, there was fun galore and happiness on all sides, for the day was perfect. Madge Tyler, Ruth Clinton and Mabel Harrison were walking along with Phil and Tom, having just come in from a ride around the lake in a motor launch. "What shall we do now?" asked Ruth. "We'll soon have the pleasure of seeing some ants do a waltz or a two-step in the butter," announced Tom. "I see the waiters getting the tables ready," for a caterer had been hired by the students to provide luncheon. "How interesting," remarked Madge. "Suppose we go over there in the shade----" She paused suddenly, and with a little gesture to Ruth went on hurriedly: "Oh, no, let's go this way." "That's too sunny," objected Mabel. "I'd rather go over in the shade, and----" She, too, stopped, and then she saw what had made her chum hesitate. Sid Henderson was approaching them on a path which had no turn in it, as they had passed the only one just as Madge tried to branch off. There was no help for it. Sid was creeping up with his camera, intent on getting a picture of a large butterfly that had alighted on a flower, and, as yet, he had not seen the little party.