They poked around for a while longer with their lanterns, but found no further evidences. By that time the sky was brightening in the east, and Roy suggested that, instead of going back to bed, they have an early breakfast and go fishing before it got hot. Even the doctor agreed enthusiastically to the proposition, and, still discussing and conjecturing, they returned to the tent. They had breakfast at a quarter to six. Harry was not on hand. She had fallen asleep again, and they didn’t disturb her. Roy volunteered to stay behind and keep her company, and at half-past six the others set out merrily to try the new stream. Roy cleaned up the breakfast things, keeping Harry’s repast warm at the back of the fire. Then adding fresh fuel, he climbed to the upper deck of the boat and made himself comfortable with a magazine. Harry appeared at half-past seven, looking none the worse for her interrupted slumbers. “Well, any more nightmares?” asked Roy, cheerfully. Harry shook her head smilingly. “No, but I don’t think it was a nightmare, Roy,” she answered. She seemed, however, less certain about it than before. Perhaps she wanted to believe in the dream theory as much as any one. Roy served breakfast to her and stood by attentively with a dish-towel over his arm, suggesting respectfully, “A little more of the hegg, ma’am?” or “Another cup of coffee, ma’am?” Then, when Harry had finished, they washed the rest of the dishes very merrily and tidied up the camp and the boat. Harry wanted very much to walk over to the store and find out whether Jennie had arrived, but, as it had been agreed that the boat was not to be left unguarded, Roy couldn’t accompany her, and she preferred not to go alone. Roy was all for returning to his chair on deck and his magazine, but Harry wouldn’t allow it. The flower-boxes, she declared, were greatly in need of water; and so Roy worked hard for a time with a pail and a dipper, Harry superintending his labors. When the last dipperful had been distributed, Roy set down the pail with a sigh of relief and looked ingratiatingly at Harry. But the spirit of unrest still possessed that young lady, and after a moment of thought her brow cleared, and she cried: “Now we’ll make some doughnuts!” “Will we?” asked Roy, without enthusiasm. “Yes; Chub and I got everything yesterday. It’ll be lots of fun, and the others will be so surprised when they come home and find doughnuts for dinner. Chub is so fond of them!” “Yes, and that’s what makes it seem kind of mean of me to help,” said Roy, earnestly. “He’d love to be here, you know. Suppose we wait until he can help?” “Oh, he won’t mind,” answered Harry lightly. “He’d much rather eat them than make them.” [Illustration: “A little more of the hegg, ma’am?”]