Soon the fire began to die down, and a little later it was but a smouldering mass, not even interesting as a spectacle. Betty Nelson’s plan had worked well, and later she received the thanks of the Yacht Club, she and her chums being elected honorary life members in recognition of the service they had rendered. Summer days passed—delicious, lazy summer days—during which the girls motored, canoed or rowed as they fancied, went on picnics in the woods, or on some of the islands of Rainbow Lake, or took long walks. Mr. Stone and Mr. Kennedy, sometimes one, often both, went with the girls. Occasionally Will and his friends ran out for a day or two, taking cruises with Betty, and her chums. Aunt Kate remained as chaperone, others who had been invited finding it impossible to come. The girls’ mothers made up a party and paid them a visit one day, being royally entertained at the time. “Yes, you girls certainly know how to do things,” said Mr. Stone one day; after Betty had skillfully avoided a collision, due to the carelessness of another skipper. “I wish we could do something to get those papers for father,” thought Grace. Not a trace had been found of Prince or the missing documents. It was very strange. Mr. Ford and his lawyer friends could not understand it. The interests opposed to him were preparing to take action, it was rumored, and if the papers were found this would be stopped. Even a detective agency that made a specialty of tracing lost articles had no success. Prince and the papers seemed to have vanished into thin air. One day as Betty and her chums were motoring about the lake, having gone to the store for some supplies, they saw the two boys who had been searching for their canoe. “Did you find it?” asked Grace. “No, not a trace of it, Too, bad, too, for we saved up our money—four dollars, now,” said the taller of the two lads. “If you find her we’ll give you that money; won’t we?” and he appealed to his companion. “We sure will!” “Well, if we see, or hear, anything of it we’ll let you know,” promised Betty. “Poor fellows,” she murmured, as they rowed away. They had made a circuit of the lake, going in many coves, but without success. “It’s about time to be thinking of camp, if we’re going in for that sort of thing,” announced Betty one day. “Shall we try it, girl?” “I’d like it,” said Mollie. “We can use the boat, too; can’t we?” “Of course,” replied Betty. “And sleep aboard?” asked Grace. “No, let’s sleep in a tent,” proposed Amy. “It will be lots of fun.” “But the bugs, and mosquitoes—not to mention frogs and snakes,” came protestingly from Grace. “Oh, we’ve done it before, and we can use our mosquito nets,” said Betty. “I heard of a nice tent, and a well-fitted up camp over on Elm Island we can hire for a week or so.” “But the ghost—the one Mr. Lagg told about?” asked Mollie.