ou find the culprit."

"Oh, we can tell you that right now," declared Nat, warmly. "When we
find him we will lynch him, burn him at the stake, and have him
imprisoned for life. When that sentence shall have been served we will
make a fresh charge against him, and perhaps----"

"Put him in a reformatory until he is twenty-one," finished Ned.
"Well, he deserves it! And to think that we should be almost within
call! Dorothy, I am inclined to question the wisdom of your silence.
Why didn't you yell like thunder?"

"And have him put some terrible gag down my throat?"

"And get all sorts of germs therefrom," added Joe. "Doro, you did just
right, and we are thankful that you got off as well as you did," and
her brother shook his head proudly, as if to say that a mere cousin
could hardly know how a closer relative would feel on such a matter.

"I wish I could have seen him," mused Roger, to whom the whole story
seemed like a wonderful tale of the West.

"Just for effect," put in Nat, with a laugh. "Roger is rather sorry he
missed the show--he always falls for the scary part."

But Dorothy did not mind the child's natural curiosity. In fact she
told him again just how the strange robber was dressed, and how fierce
he looked at her through the holes in the red handkerchief.

"Maybe he'll come around to the camp," said Roger hopefully. "I'm
going to have my rifle all ready."

"And I haven't yet told you of the adventure we had at Glenwood, just
before school closed," went on Dorothy, realizing fully how delighted
Roger would be with the tale of the hay wagon accident, as well as
that of the scattered sheep. "We very nearly all lost a week's
vacation through it, the principal was so indignant."

With splendid description, and with nothing startling left out,
Dorothy went over the story. Even the larger boys became interested,
and when she mentioned about the queer man, who sprang from nowhere,
and who did things so unlike other people, Ned and Nat exchanged sly
glances.

"You say he rode horseback like a real Indian?" queried Nat. "And that
he sort of made up to my old friend Tavia?"

"I knew you would be jealous, Nat," answered Dorothy. "But you really
must put Tavia out of your heart."

"Never!" and Nat struck a most tragic attitude. "Tavia will ever be
the queen of my heart!" and he made a thump toward that organ, with
seeming suicidal intent.

Dorothy laughed merrily. She knew very well how devoted Nat really w