John Rogers saw the white tents of the
campers as the steamer put in at Friendly Bay.
"There are two tents," said Aunt Caroline lowering her lorgnette. "I
shall be quite comfortable."
The doctor did not smile. His sense of humor was suffering from
temporary exhaustion and his strongest consciousness was a feeling
of relief that neither Benis nor anyone else appeared to notice
their arrival. Even the unique spectacle of a middle-aged lady in
elastic-sided boots proceeding on tiptoe, and with all the tactics
of a scouting party, toward the evidently deserted tents provoked no
demonstration from anyone.
"They're not here!" called the scouting party in a carrying whisper.
"Obviously not." The doctor wiped his heated fore-head. "Probably
they've gone for the night. Then you'll have to marry me to save my
reputation."
"Jokes upon serious subjects are in very bad taste, young man," said
Aunt Caroline. But her rebuke was half-hearted. She looked uneasy.
"John," she added with sudden suspicion, "you don't suppose they
could have known we were coming?"
"How could they possibly?"
"If she is an Indian, they might. I've heard of such things. I--oh,
John! Look!"
"Snake?" asked John callously. Nevertheless he followed Aunt
Caroline's horrified gaze and saw, with a thrill of more normal
interest, a pair of dainty moccasins whose beaded toes protruded
from the flap of one of the tents.
"Indian!" gasped Aunt Caroline.
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