While the girls stood about, well-nigh distracted, and not knowing what to do, save to talk in shivery whispers, and to speculate on what might have happened to their Camp Fire chum, Phil hurried off to where the other boys had their tent. He was soon heard returning with them. They readily agreed to join in the search, and some of them prepared to set off in one of the larger rowboats, with Phil, while the others got more lanterns and prepared for another tramp through the woods. The boat was just about to be pushed off from the little improvised dock, when the sound of oars out on the lake was heard, the echo coming distinctly over the water, and through the still darkness. “Hark!” exclaimed Mabel. “Some one is coming,” added Marie. “Maybe with—news,” faltered Alice. Then came a hail. “Wo-he-lo! Dogwood!” “It’s Natalie!” chorused her chums, while Blake raised his voice in a gladsome shout: “Natalie! Where have you been? Are you all right?” “All right, yes, of course. Reuben is bringing me home.” “Reuben?” Blake questioned quickly. “That’s the milk-and-farm boy,” said Alice in a low voice. “Oh, yes.” “Hurry, Natalie!” called Mrs. Bonnell. “What happened to you? What kept you? Where were you? We were just going in search of you.” “I’m all right,” answered the voice from out in the darkness, and then the rescuers could see a faint glimmer of light in a moving boat. “I sprained my ankle, and I couldn’t walk. Reuben came along and found me, and brought me home in his boat. We’ll be there in a minute.” “Busted part of the blade off one of my oars,” explained the country lad. “That’s why it took us so long. The boat wouldn’t go straight.” The boys and girls crowded down to the edge of the water and waited anxiously. Now they could discern the approaching boat more clearly. In a little while it grated on the pebbles of the beach, and by the light of the lanterns with which the second searching party had been about to start out, they could see the missing girl resting on some blankets in the bottom of the craft. “Oh, Natalie!” cried Mrs. Bonnell. “We’ve been so worried about you!” “I know it, dear Guardie, but I couldn’t help it. I fell and sprained my ankle.” “Where?” “In the haunted mill.” “The haunted mill!” cried Alice. “Were you there, Natalie Fuller?” “I was. Oh, Blake, my dear, don’t try to lift me out until I straighten my foot! Oh!” and she shrank back with pain, for Blake had gotten into the boat and was endeavoring to lift her out. “Give me a hand here, you fellows,” he ordered somewhat roughly, but they knew how he felt. “No, no, Blake, really!” begged Natalie after a moment. “If you wait I can get up by myself, and then, if you let me lean on your shoulder I can manage to hobble to the tent, I think. It isn’t so bad, really.” He watched her carefully as she got in position. Then as she bore a slight weight on the sprained ankle he saw her sway. The next moment he had caught her in his arms.