“But if we see a rowboat, or one canoe towing another we’ll sort of sneak up and take a look,” remarked Jack. “Oh, boys!” cried Natalie, “please don’t have any—unpleasantness.” “Unpleasantness is—good!” affirmed Phil. “We’ll just throw them overboard, Nat, if we find any of them have our canoe, and then all the unpleasantness will be on their side.” “Oh, boys! You couldn’t!” and she seemed really alarmed. “Of course they won’t,” said Alice witheringly. “Don’t let them scare you.” “Well, we’re going to get our canoe,” declared Phil doggedly. But though the boys kept a sharp lookout on their way to the Point they saw no signs of their missing craft. Once at the Point, which was a sort of gathering place for the campers and cottagers from all the coves and inlets of the lake, the boys gave their orders for groceries, and then danced with the girls, for the nightly hops were a feature there. “‘A good time was had by all,’ as the Weekly Clarion of Hensfoot Corners will say next week,” remarked Blake, as the little party prepared to go back to camp. “It _was_ enjoyable,” declared Natalie who was very fond of dancing. “I hated to come away.” “I’ll go back with you,” offered Blake. “We can get a boat to bring us over.” “You’ll do nothing of the kind!” exclaimed Mrs. Bonnell, with a laugh. “It’s time my Camp Fire Girls were home and in bed.” “Oh, very well, Nat,” sighed Blake. “Some other time.” They found their camps undisturbed, the lighted lanterns seemingly serving them well in their absence. But, as on the going trip, there was no sign of the missing canoe. Nor did a casual search the boys made the next day bring it to light. They reported their loss to the local authorities, and one of the constables said he would do what he could to find the craft. “Though it isn’t very hopeful,” he told them. “It’s so easy to paint a canoe over, and they all look alike.” The officer seemed more interested in hearing about the location of the Gypsy wagons and tents at Bear Pond, and made a trip to the girls’ camp to learn about them. He was given the directions to find it, and said he would make an investigation at once. “And, if you can,” urged Mabel, “see if you can get back my mother’s ring.” “I will,” he promised, but the girls well knew that there was but a small chance of success. “Maybe we should have told him about the haunted mill,” suggested Natalie. “No!” declared Mrs. Bonnell. “That was only some foolish fancy of that hermit. The mill isn’t haunted.” “Of course not,” Natalie agreed, “but I’m sure I saw a face at the window that day.” But nothing was said to the constable about it. Several days passed, and nothing new developed. The boys did not find their canoe, and nothing was heard about the visit of the constable to the Gypsy camp.