"No, she isn't. I've looked." "But she went to bed at half past eight. I saw her asleep myself. Just a minute, please." He heard her pattering about. He went downstairs and summoned Matthews. He knew nothing. He had been on duty all evening, but he had not seen her. Wally ordered him to question all the servants. Miss Watts, greatly excited, appeared in a bathrobe. A telephone call to the Hunters' house brought the reply that Mr. Hunter and the servants were out looking, now. Wally went up to his wife's room. She was in bed. "Isabelle's gone," he said. "Gone where?" she asked, sitting up. "I don't know. With the others, I suppose." "Where is Watts? She is responsible for Isabelle." "She saw her asleep in bed at eight thirty. Miss Watts put out her light at nine. The kid got away somehow." "Watts had no business going to bed. Where were the other servants?" "They were on duty and saw nothing." "On duty, in the kitchen, having skylarks!" "No matter. The thing is what to do now?" "Go to bed. She'll turn up." "Don't be a fool! I'll take a car and join the searching party. Nobody knows what those kids are up to." "All right; go ahead. But this time, Wally Bryce, I punish her." He hurried out, and got into a fast car, with Matthews and Henry, the chauffeur, in the back seat. He went like the wind to the Hunters'. No news yet, but they informed him that twelve boys were missing. "My Isabelle is with them," said Wally. The Hunters' butler look startled. "My word, sir, she _is_ a limb!" he exclaimed. On the road Wally met Billy Horton in his car. "They must be around here somewhere. They couldn't get far. If I don't fix that young man of mine!" he threatened. "My kid is with them," Wally groaned. "You don't say!" ejaculated Horton. Just then a streak of light, as from a fire, flared up in the woods, to the left, and died out. "Did you see that?" demanded Wally. "Yes, looked like----" "Beg pardon, sir, fire in the woods, that was." "They've set the woods on fire," shouted Wally, and started off full speed. Horton followed. "Keep your eye on the place, you fellows. About here, wasn't it?" He stopped the car, and they jumped out. Henry carried a bunghole light and they penetrated the woods, single file, shouting as they went. No answer came, but they kept on. Before they had gone very far, a pony whinnied. "Hear that? We're coming to something." They heard motors on the road behind, and shouts in answer to their shouts. Other fathers rushed in presently and joined them. Henry stopped and halted the entire line. "Well, I'll be blowed," he said. He swept the cleared place with his light, and they all crowded up behind him. A bed of ashes smouldered, and around it, in deep oblivion of well-earned sleep, lay thirteen blanketed braves, a trusty weapon--tomahawk or sword--at hand beside each sleeper.