as ruminating on what had
happened between Betty and himself he allowed his eyes to wander
from one person to another. When his gaze alighted on Wetzel it
became riveted there. The hunter's attitude struck him as singular.
Wetzel had his face half turned toward the boys romping near him and
he leaned carelessly against a white oak tree. But a close observer
would have seen, as Alfred did, that there was a certain alertness
in that rigid and motionless figure. Wetzel's eyes were fixed on the
western end of the island. Almost involuntarily Alfred's eyes sought
the same direction. The western end of the island ran out into a
long low point covered with briars, rushes and saw-grass. As Alfred
directed his gaze along the water line of this point he distinctly
saw a dark form flit from one bush to another. He was positive he
had not been mistaken. He got up slowly and unconcernedly, and
strolled over to Wetzel.

"Wetzel, I saw an object just now," he said in a low tone. "It was
moving behind those bushes at the head of the island. I am not sure
whether it was an animal or an Indian."

"Injuns. Go back and be natur'l like. Don't say nothin' and watch
Miller," whispered Wetzel.

Much perturbed by the developments of the last few moments, and
wondering what was going to happen, Alfred turned away. He had
scarcely reached the others when he heard Betty's voice raised in
indignant protest.

"I tell you I did swim my pony across the river," cried Betty. "It
was just even with that point and the river was higher than it is
now."

"You probably overestimated your feat," said Miller, with his
disagreeable, doubtful smile. "I have seen the river so low that it
could be waded, and then it would be a very easy matter to cross.
But now your pony could not swim half the distance."

"I'll show you," answered Betty, her black eyes flashing. She put
her foot in the stirrup and leaped on Madcap.

"Now, Betty, don't try that foolish ride again," implored Mrs. Zane.
"What do you care whether strangers believe or not? Eb, make her
come back."

Col. Bane only laughed and made no attempt to detain Betty. He
rather indulged her caprices.

"Stop her!" cried Clarke.

"Betty, where are you goin'?" said Wetzel, grabbing at Madcap's
bridle. But Betty was too quick for him. She avoided the hunter, and
with a saucy laugh she wheeled the fiery little pony and urged her
over the bank. Almost before any one could divine her purpose she
had Mad