ening to the cook-tent--out of the part Liz had
been sleeping in. But these flaps were laced down.

However, there were marks in the soft ground right here--footmarks
that could not be mistaken. They were prints of a man's boot--no girl
in the crowd wore such footgear as those that made these marks!

The boot-prints led right from the laced flaps of the tent toward the
woods. Laura could see fully a dozen of the marks, all headed that
way. The man had come from the inside of the tent, for there were no
footprints showing an approach to the tent from this end.

"I knew that girl did not cry because of the thunder and lightning,"
was Laura's decision. "This man burst into the tent while she was
alone. And for some reason she is afraid to tell us the truth about
him.

"Of course, she hasn't really told a falsehood. She just let us
believe that it was the storm that had scared her.

"Now, who is the man? Is she sheltering him because of fear, or for
another reason?

"And what did he want? Why did he come to the tent in the storm? For
shelter from the rain? Not probable. I declare!" thought Mother Wit,
"this is as puzzling a thing as ever I heard."

She said nothing to anybody before breakfast about her discoveries.
She did not wish to disturb Mrs. Morse, for that lady had come into
the woods for a rest from her social duties, and for the writing of a
book. Why should she be troubled by a mere mystery?

The detective fever burned hotly in Laura Belding's veins on this
morning. From Jess she could not keep her discovery for long; but she
swore her chum to silence.

Then she took Bobby Hargrew into her confidence. Despite the younger
girl's recklessness, she was brave and physically strong.

"We're going to run down Lizzie's 'ha'nt,' if the Barnacle has a
nose," declared Laura, after the trio had discussed the pros and cons
of the affair.

So they loosened the dog, Laura holding him in leash, and slipped away
to the woods when none of the other members of the party were
watching. Laura knew that the scent would not lie very strong after
the pelting rain; but they could follow the trail by sight for a long
distance.

It led straight toward the far end of Acorn Island--the end which they
and the boys had so carelessly searched the day after the larder had
been robbed. Here and there they came upon the print of the unknown
man's boots in the softened soil.

"Gee, Laura!" gasped Bobby. "Suppose he turns on us? We