“Oh, Betty, what a horrid idea,” said Grace. “Come on, let’s see if everything is all right.” But they found that their fears had been wasted. The boys were in the kitchen hilariously helping Mrs. Irving get the breakfast to the accompaniment of continual good-natured scolding from that flushed and perspiring lady. It was Amy’s day to get the breakfast, but, as usual, she was late in getting down. “You make a good deal more trouble than you mend,” Mrs. Irving was saying as the girls came to the door, then added relievedly as she caught sight of them: “For goodness’ sake, get these young ruffians out of the kitchen, my dears, or we’ll not have any breakfast until noon.” So amid much fun and nonsense the boys were shooed forth into the bright sunshine of the out-of-doors, and all the girls fell to to help their chaperon, not wanting to put the extra work the boys made entirely on Amy’s shoulders. Breakfast was good, but they ate hurriedly, anxious to get at the business of the day. They wanted more than they had wanted anything in a very long time to find Professor Dempsey and tell him the joyful news that his sons were alive. “I’m horribly afraid of him at night,” Mollie confided, as they started out at last, “but in the daytime I am only sorry for him.” “Do you think we shall find him, Will?” asked Amy, with a helpless little look into Will’s self-reliant young face. “I do want to so much.” Will looked down at her with an expression that said to any one who would read it: “I would give you anything in the world you asked for, if I only could.” But all he really said was: “That remains to be seen. He proved himself a rather slippery customer last night, and the chase we put up may only serve to put him on his guard. Crazy people are tricky, you know.” “Goodness,” said Grace, looking fearfully over her shoulder. “There is nothing in the world I am so afraid of as a crazy person.” “That’s why she has always been so afraid of me, I suppose,” grinned Mollie. “Afraid of you,” said Grace, her eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Little shrimp! who are you?” There followed a characteristic scene that somewhat lifted the oppression they had all been feeling, and it was not till they had nearly reached the river at the head of the falls that they became serious again. “It was right about here,” said Betty soberly, “that we saw him the night that he started to jump into the river! or I suppose it was the same one,” she added. “Let us hope so,” said Mollie fervently. “I wouldn’t like to think that there were two lunatics wandering round these woods. One is quite enough.” As they came closer to the river they became more and more conscious that they were not alone, that some one, hidden in the bushes, was craftily watching them.