"Oh, I think everything is _perfectly adorable_," said another friend; "and the weather is just _heavenly_. For goodness' sakes, let the candy alone; that's the fourth piece you took." "Listen," said Minerva. "I'm not going to let a _single one_ of them come out here till they have all arrived. We're going to have the concert in the house first and they've _just got_ to listen to Mrs. Wild speak about the Camp-fire movement, because she's just _perfectly wonderful_. Do you know, I wish I had put the refreshments in the summer house. No, I don't either--yes, I do. It would have been more romantic--_rustic_." "Oh, I think this tent is _perfect_," said another girl, slyly helping herself to a salted almond. "I know," said Minerva, her hand stealing unconsciously toward a box of marshmallows, "I know, but what I wanted was something unusual--symbolic. A rustic platform in one of the big trees would have been nice; it would have been sort of--sort of _scoutish_. I want to have things _different_. That's why boys always make fun of the Camp-fire Girls, they think we're _tame_. Think how Roy Blakeley and his friends actually camped in that adorable old railroad car while it was traveling, goodness knows where. When I went to the Aero Club reception with Harold Fall they had the refreshments in a great balloon; we had to go up to it on a ladder--_shh_, listen! Did you hear a noise?" A chorus of excited whisperings followed her startled query. "No, where?" "What was it?" "Was it a voice?" "You mean on the river?" "_Shh_, listen," said Minerva; "_look_, do you see a light--right there among the bushes? _Shh_. Don't run." There was indeed a light shining through the dark foliage alongshore and presently a voice was to be heard, a voice speaking words to strike terror to the stoutest Camp-fire Girl heart. "I watched for the cops," it said, "and as soon as I saw them I beat it across the field and told the gang and every one got away but it was a narrow escape. One detective had me by the collar. _This is going to be easy though_." "Bandits!" whispered Minerva. "They're going to rob the house while we're on the lawn," breathed Margaret Timerson. "They're crouching on the shore just behind those bushes," said another girl. "Leave it to me," said the mysterious voice. "I'll handle them." CHAPTER XVIII EVERY WHICH WAY We left Merry-go-round Island revolving gracefully upon a tiny reef whence it was borne by the rising tide. We are now to take up our narrative at the point where the island ceased spinning and was carried slowly on upstream by the incoming waters. When the tide reached flood, the island hesitated upon the still water, then like some obedient and clumsy ox, moved slowly downstream again upon the ebb. And meanwhile, the day departed and darkness fell upon the winding river and the hardy adventurers lit their lanterns.