He knew not. “Which was the road to Green Lake?” He knew not. “Was there any one who did?” The same result. “Was there any one who could put them on the right road?” No one. And the rain came down harder, while it grew darker—seemingly more so in contrast to the light that Mrs. Bonnell flashed to the no small fear of the German _kinder_. “I suppose we might stay here until he could go and get some one who could speak English, and who could either show us where we have left our boats, or take word to the boys to come after us,” ventured Marie. “Ugh! Stay here? Never!” cried Natalie. “It’s so—so— Oh, it wouldn’t do at all!” she finished with a real shudder. The others reluctantly agreed with her. The man muttered something in his own language. His wife replied, gesticulating and pointing in several directions. Evidently she meant to be of service but was unable to accomplish it. Then the children cried for their suppers, and the girls, feeling very lonesome and deserted, continued their night march along the little path, the electric light flashing like some modern firefly. CHAPTER XV “IT’S THE BOYS” “How much farther?” “I can’t walk another step!” “You must! You can’t stay here—none of us can! We must keep on!” The Camp Fire Girls were trudging through the woods, whither the path led them—wet, miserable and unhappy, yet not utterly discouraged. The little pocket lamp of the Guardian was their salvation, in a way, for the brilliant pencil of fire that streamed out of the lens showed them the trail—such as it was. They had hurried on from the rather inhospitable farmhouse of the German—inhospitable not so much from intention as misunderstanding. “Oh, if we ever get to our dear, old camp again!” murmured Marie, as she clung to Natalie’s arm. “We’ll never go Gypsy-hunting again; will we?” spoke Alice from the rear guard. “Never! I wonder if the boys had any better luck?” asked Mabel. “At any rate they don’t mind being lost, and getting wet,” said Marie. “Oh, we’re not so wet,” voiced Natalie. “These khaki suits are just dandy for shedding rain. They’re like a duck’s back. Really, I’m not at all damp—except outside.” “But don’t you think we might have stayed at that German place?” asked Mrs. Bonnell. “Really, the farther on we go the more I worry about you girls. Where _are_ we going to come out?” “Somewhere on the shores of Green Lake,” declared Mabel. “And if once we get there we can surely find some one to help us. There are cottages all around the lake, and it isn’t so late, though it is dark. We can give our camp cry, when we get a little nearer and some one will come out to see what’s the trouble.” “When we get a little nearer what?” asked Alice.