ientifically caught, with dry feet and a warm seat on the bank under a
glaring sun. Mr. Hallam and Tom brought up plenty for dinner; so no one
went hungry.

That afternoon, it chanced that the girls were left alone for about one
hour. Mr. Hallam had taken Tom some distance up the stream for a
comfortable little fish by themselves, and left the girls to prepare
supper, with strict injunctions not to go out of sight of the tents.

They were very well content with the arrangement for a while, but at last
Gypsy became tired of having nothing but the trees to look at, and
suggested a visit to the brook. She had seen some checker-berry leaves
growing in the gorge, and was seized with a fancy to have them for supper.
Sarah, as usual, made no objections, and they went.

"It's only just out of sight of the tent," said Gypsy, as they ran down
over the loose stones; "and we won't be gone but a minute."

But they were gone many minutes. They had little idea how long the time
had been, and were surprised to find it growing rapidly dark in the forest
when they came panting back to the tent, out of breath with the haste they
had made.

"They must be back by this time," said Gypsy; "Tom!"

There was no answer.

"Tom! Thom-as! Mr. Hallam!"

A bird chirped in a maple-bough overhead, and a spark cracked out of the
smouldering hickory fire; there was no other sound.

"I guess they're busy in their tent," said Gypsy, going up to it. But the
tent was empty.

"They haven't come!" exclaimed Sarah.

"It's real mean in them to leave us here," said Gypsy, looking round among
the trees.

"You know," suggested Sarah, timidly, "you know Mr. Hallam said we were to
stay at the tents. Perhaps they came while we were gone, and couldn't find
us, and have gone to hunt us up."

"Oh!" said Gypsy, quickly, "I forgot." She turned away her face a moment,
so that Sarah could not see it; then she turned back, and said, slowly,--

"Sarah, I'm very sorry I took you off. This is rather a bad fix. We must
make the best of it now."

"Let's call again," said Sarah, faintly.

They called again, and many times; but there was no reply. Everything was
still but the bird, and the sparks that crackled now and then from the
fire. The heavy gray shadows grew purple and grew black. The little
foot-paths in the woods were blotted out of sight, and the far sky above
the tree-tops grew dusky and dim.

"We might go to Mr. Fisher's,--do, Gypsy! I can't bear to