e woods," went on the ragged
man. "I saw some fine red ones a little while ago. If I had known I
should meet you I would have picked them for you."

"I wonder if he _can_ be a tramp," thought Janet. "Do tramps pick
flowers, or want to pick them?"

What she said was:

"Thank you, but I think I have enough now."

"Yes, you have a nice bouquet," went on the ragged man, still smiling.

He was dressed like a tramp, that was certain. But, somehow or other,
Janet did not feel as afraid as she expected she would be when she
thought of meeting a tramp.

"Do you live around here?" the man continued.

"Yes, we're camping in a tent," Jan replied. "My grandfather owns part
of this island and we're with him--my mother and my brothers. We like it
here."

"Yes, it's fine," said the ragged man, who Janet thought must be a
tramp, even if he did not talk like most of them. "So you live in a
tent? Does the professor stay here all the while?"

"The professor?" repeated Janet, and she wondered what the long
word meant. She was sure she had heard it before. Pretty soon she
remembered. At school she had heard some of the teachers speak of
the principal as "Professor."

"My grandpa isn't a professor," explained Janet with a smile. "He's a
farmer."

"Well, some farmers are scientists. Maybe he is a scientist," went on
the tramp. "I was wondering if some one else was on this island looking
for the same thing I'm looking for. Can you tell me, little girl----?"

But just then, from somewhere back in the woods, a voice called. The
ragged man listened a moment, and then he cried:

"All right! I'm coming!"

Janet saw him stoop and pick up off the ground a canvas bag, through the
opening of which she saw stones, such as might be picked up on the shore
of the lake or almost anywhere on the island.

"I hope I shall see you again, little girl," went on the tramp, as Janet
called him afterward when telling the story. "And when I do, I hope I'll
have some red flowers for you. Good-bye!"

Janet was so surprised by the quick way in which the man ran off through
the woods with his bag of stones that she did not answer or say
good-bye. She just stood looking at the quivering bushes which closed up
behind him and showed which way the man had gone. Janet could not see
him any longer.

A moment later she heard the bushes behind her crackling, and, turning
quickly, she saw Ted and Trouble coming toward her.

"What's the matter?" called her o