“The action has been entirely too rapid for us,” confessed Blake. “We are willing to let you have a try at the mystificating problem. All we know is that we are hungry, and we have not the wherewithal to eat.” “Then come on over to our camp,” proposed the Guardian. “Girls—show that you are real members of the Camp Fire tribe. We must feed these hungry warriors.” “Where are their fish?” asked Alice. “We didn’t get any,” confessed her brother. “Feed us this time, and we’ll get up a party for you next week.” “Wait until I see if we’ve got gasoline enough to run the motor-boat over to the Point and back,” suggested Jack, as he hurried down to the little dock. “Then we’ll dine with you, fair ladies.” He was seen to come to a halt near the edge of the water. “What’s the matter?” called Blake. “More mysteries,” answered Jack. “Our little canoe is gone!” CHAPTER XXIV NATALIE IS GONE Camp Fire Girls and camping boys gathered in a little group on the edge of the lake, standing about Jack, who was mutely pointing to a stake in the water. “There’s where she was tied,” he said. “And now she’s gone!” “Maybe she floated away,” suggested Blake. “Not much!” cried Jack. “I haven’t learned to tie all sorts of sailor knots now to slip up and make a grannie-hitch at this day. That canoe couldn’t come untied unless some one did it.” “And it’s out of sight now,” remarked Phil, as he swept his eyes over the surface of the lake. “Hadn’t we better get after it in the motor-boat? Have we any gas?” “I forgot to look. When I saw the canoe gone I got all worked up.” “Did it belong to you boys?” asked Natalie. “No, and that’s the worst of it. We hired it over at Glen’s dock,” said Jack, “and he’s sure to charge us double what it was worth if we don’t return it at the end of the season.” “When did you notice it was gone?” asked Mrs. Bonnell. “Just now. Of course it was gone when we came back here from our trip, but we didn’t notice it, I guess. But it’s sure gone all right,” and Jack added his searching gaze to that of his two chums. But on the darkening surface of the lake there was no such craft to be seen as the small green canoe the boys had hired. “Let’s get right out in the motor,” proposed Jack, who had taken the screw-plug from the gasoline tank in the bow, and ascertained, by dipping in a stick, that there was fuel enough to run to the Point and back. “Better wait until after supper,” advised Marie. “Come over to our camp, boys, and we’ll give you the best meal we can get up in a hurry. Then we’ll go over to the Point with you.” “But we want to look for our canoe,” insisted Phil. “I know,” replied his sister, “but we’ve got to go to the Point anyhow. You need some supplies, and the canoe is just as likely to be in that direction as any other.” “Not much!” insisted Jack. “The Gypsies wouldn’t take it over that way—too many chances of being seen.”