le to get their
bearings, for the mountain to the east, the first one they had
ascended after leaving the foothills in the auto, loomed up
sentinel-like, through the moonlight.

Forming their impressions by their distance from this mountain, the
boys decided that they were nearly half a mile from camp.

"Just think of all the climb we wasted," said Jim. "We might have
been at camp twenty minutes ago had we been able to keep in the right
direction."

"Well, one thing is sure," Gerald responded; "we'll be able to find
it now."

They set off down the road, which, being composed of sand, was
plainly visible in the moonlight, in spite of the deep shadows thrown
by the trees on either side.

Some moments later they made out the tents. This time there was no
mistake, for, as they listened, they heard the murmur of voices. The
girls and Aunt Betty were no doubt discussing their protracted
absence. Probably suspecting that some harm had come to the boys they
were afraid to make their presence known, and were talking in low,
guarded tones.

"Camp ahoy!" cried Gerald, suddenly.

Then everyone screamed, and there was a scramble to strike a light,
as they all crowded around the boys with eager questions. Ephy struck
a light and by its fitful glare the girls saw the pale face of the
lad Jim and Gerald had found on the mountain.

"Here's the result of our trip," said Jim, as he led his burden
forward.

"In heaven's name!" cried Aunt Betty. "Who have you there, Jim
Barlow?"

"Ask me something easy, Aunt Betty. We found him alone on the
mountain, half scared to death. He won't talk. He's been hysterical
all the way back. Perhaps after a good night's rest he will be able
to tell us who he is and where he came from."

"You poor boy!" cried the sympathetic Dorothy.

Then, moved by a sudden impulse, she threw her arms about his neck
and drew him to her--an action which the lad seemed in no way to
resent.

The story of their adventure told, Gerald and Jim again sought their
sleeping quarters, taking their newly-found friend with them.

Before they went to sleep they induced him to tell his name, which
was Len Haley. When they pressed him to know how he came to be alone
so far from home, he shook his head and his lip trembled. That, he
said, he would tell them in the morning.

Fixing a comfortable place for him, the boys waited until he was
sound asleep, before again closing their own eyes. Then, tired from
the exertion