t. We'll do it."

"And leave him some lunch, too," voiced Amy.

"Good!" cried Betty. "Tom has one friend, at least."

A goodly packet of lunch was done up, and placed in a tree, well
wrapped, where it would be sure to be seen. Then a note was left, with a
brief account of what had happened, and the information that the girls
had gone back to Orangeade.

"He ought to see that!" remarked Betty, stepping back to inspect her
handiwork. She had pinned a small square of white paper, containing the
writing, to a sheet of light brown manila, so that it was visible for
some distance.

"It looks like a whole book--instead of a note," laughed Mollie.

The _Gem_ was started and began dropping down the branch stream toward
the main river. At least the girls hoped it was the main river when they
turned into a larger body of water. But as they puffed on, amid the
lengthening shadows, an annoying doubt began to manifest itself in
Betty's mind. She glanced at the shores from time to time.

"Girls," she said finally, "does everything look right?"

"Do you mean--your hair?" asked Amy.

"No, I mean the scenery. Is it familiar? Have we been here before? Did
we come this way?"

They all stared at Betty.

"What--what do you mean?" faltered Grace.

"Well, I don't seem to remember this place," went on Betty. "I'm afraid
we've taken the wrong turn in the river, and that----"

"You don't mean to say that we're lost; do you?" cried Mollie.

"I'm afraid so," was Betty's low-voiced reply.

CHAPTER XX

THE LOON

Onward chugged the _Gem_ and the sudden acceleration in the heart-beats
of the girls seemed to keep time with the staccato exhaust of the motor.

"Lost!" faltered Grace.

"And night coming on," echoed Amy.

"Oh, you two!" cried Mollie. "I wish I were a boy!"

"Why?" asked Betty, as she guided her craft to the center of the stream.
It was lighter there, for they were not so much under the overhanging
trees with their festoons of moss. "Why, Mollie, dear?"

"Then I could use slang, such as--oh, well, what's the use? I don't
suppose it would do any good."

"But are you sure we are lost?" asked Amy. "What makes you say so,
Betty?"

"Because this place doesn't look at all like any part of the river we
came down before. The trouble was that we let Tom steer, and we didn't
notice the course very much, as we should have done on coming in a new
channel. But I'm sure we are lost."

"It isn't a very pleasant thin