is pipe.

"What is the matter?" asked the bishop. "Where are all our friends?"

[Illustration: "'WHERE ARE ALL OUR FRIENDS?'"]

"I suppose they are all in bed," said Clyde, "with the bedclothes pulled
over their heads--that is, except one, and I suspect she is talking in her
sleep. They were all here as usual, and Mr. Archibald thought he would
break the spell by telling a fishing story. He told me he was going to try
to speak against time; but it wasn't of any use. She just slid into the
middle of his remarks as a duck slides into the water, and then she began
an oration. I really believe she did not know that any one else was
talking."

"That may have been the case," said the bishop; "she has a wonderful power
of self-concentration."

"Very true," said Clyde, "and this time she concentrated herself so much
upon herself that the rest of us got away, one by one, and when all the
others had gone she went. Then, when I found she really had gone, I came
back. By-the-way, bishop," he continued, "there is something I would like
to do, and I want you to help me."

"Name it," said the other.

"I am getting tired of the way the Raybolds are trespassing on the
good-nature of the Archibalds, and, whatever they do, I don't intend to
let them make me trespass any longer. I haven't anything to do with Miss
Raybold, but the other tent belongs as much to me as it does to her
brother, and I am going to take it back to our own camp. And what is more,
I am going to have my meals there. I don't want that wooden-headed Mrs.
Perkenpine to cook for me."

"How would you like me to do it?" asked the bishop, quickly.

"That would be fine," said Clyde. "I will help, and we will set up
house-keeping there again, and if Raybold doesn't choose to come and live
in his own camp he can go wherever he pleases. I am not going to have him
manage things for me. Don't you think that you and I can carry that tent
over?"

"With ease!" exclaimed the bishop. "When do you want to move--Monday
morning?"

"Yes," said Clyde, "after breakfast."

CHAPTER XVIII

THE HERMITS ASSOCIATE

During the next day no one in camp had reason to complain of Corona
Raybold. She did not seem inclined to talk to anybody, but spent the most
of her time alone. She wrote a little and reflected a great deal,
sometimes walking, sometimes seated in the shade, gazing far beyond the
sky.

When the evening fire was lighted, her mood changed so that one might have