don't know
whether he is a robber or a minister. What will we do when we find
him?"

"That depends altogether upon what he looks like," said Laura. "Now
hush, Bobby. The Barnacle is pulling hard; he really smells
something."

"I hope it isn't another black and white kitten," chuckled Bobby.

They went down a slope to a small hollow, well sheltered by trees and
rocks. There was a faint odor of wood smoke in the air.

"A camp," whispered Jess, having hard work to keep her teeth from
nervously chattering, despite the heat of the day, "Who do you suppose
is here?"

"We'll see," whispered Laura in return, and slipped the dog's leash.

The Barnacle ran down into the dale at once. The three girls followed,
cautiously parting the branches. They came in sight of the fire.

It was the remains of a late breakfast-fire, without doubt. There was
a single figure sitting at one side of the smoldering wood. Barnacle
was running about the encampment, snuffing eagerly for broken bits. He
paid the figure by the fire no attention, nor did the man look at the
dog.

The man stooped, and his face was buried in his hands. He wore a
shabby frock coat, and a disreputable hat.

"That's one of those two fishermen we saw in the canoe," whispered
Jess.

"Wonder if you're right?" breathed Bobby.

Just then the man raised his head and turned so that the three girls
from Central High could see his face. It was unshaven and the man
looked altogether like a tramp. But there was no mistaking him for
anybody but Professor Dimp, the Latin and history instructor of
Central High!

CHAPTER XVII

A PERFECTLY UNSATISFACTORY INTERVIEW

"Goodness gracious!" gasped Bobby, the first to find her breath. She
fell limply against Laura and Jess. "What do you know about _that_?
Say, girls! Do you see the same thing I do, or am I going crazy?"

"Hush!" commanded Jess, hoarsely.

"Don't be ridiculous, child," advised Laura, rather sharply. "He will
hear you----"

"Will that be a crime?" demanded Bobby, still in a whisper.

"It may be," said Laura, slowly. "We don't know why the professor is
here."

"To commune with nature, I judge," said Jess, drily.

"I can't imagine Old Dimple communing with nature--not as a pastime,"
giggled Bobby.

"He surely has some good reason for being here," Laura murmured.

"We won't accuse him of robbing the camp that time, I suppose?" asked
Jess. "Or being up there last evening in the storm?"

"That trai