orget
it. It does not fit in the picture."

"Just the same," insisted Grace, "I think we ought to go in to that
island. See how dark it is getting, and there might be some help there."

With an amount of coaxing Grace and Cleo, with Eugenia and Helen, were
finally allowed to row into shore, and as the water was perceptibly
shallow, it was decided by Mae, as captain, that the little trip could
be made in perfect safety.

"I must stay with the Blowell," she said, "as I might feel an under
current strong enough to move us. Don't delay too long."

They were glad to leave the sail boat, if only temporarily. It had
become monotonous, if not actually gloomy to sit there, longing to move.

A short pull brought the dory on to land, and briskly the girls sprang
ashore. Along the edge just a stretch of sand, untraveled, greeted them.

"No footprints here," Grace remarked. "But it's nice and smooth; a
lovely little island."

"Yes, if we were merely looking for nature's beauties," replied Eugenia.
"But just now we would rather run across a stuttering telephone."

"There is a wireless station somewhere around here," said Cleo. "I
remember reading about it being outside of Sandy Hook."

"Do you suppose we are outside of anything?" asked Helen. "I feel we
are tied with a drawstring in nature's hip pocket."

"Here's a footprint," called Cleo. "Just look; here's a sign!"

All ran toward her and found tacked on a tree a crudely marked
cardboard. On this they managed to decipher the words, "Peter Pan" and
"Take me to Mama."

"Perhaps some picnic children left that here," decided Eugenia. "No
other sign of mortal habitation about."

"Yes, here is a child's shovel and pail, and a lot of child's play
tools," said Helen.

"Relics of the same outing party," commented Louise. "Just see if you
can't dig up something more humanly tangible, Helen."

Dusk made the woods almost dark, and lest they should stray too far
inland Mae was to give signals on her police whistle. Three short and
two long would mean "hurry back." Occasionally they stopped to listen
for the call.

"Some child has been digging here very recently," insisted Cleo. "This
sand and clay are damp yet."

"The picnic might have been to-day," Louise replied.

"You're not very encouraging Weasie. Just see how deep this hole is, and
how it is being dug--like--a tunnel."

Every one followed Cleo's plea for an investigation, and at each turn
they seemed to come upon m