ater, for she realized that it was a very real
thing; but she was disappointed that she had not tried to conquer
it.

Her first impression of Gladys bad been borne out by later
events. She was vain and silly and shallow; she lacked the good
sportsmanship which made the rest of the Winnebagos such
successful campers. Of team work she had no idea at all. She
wanted to order her day to suit herself, and put on an injured
air if one of the girls declined to help her make a stencil when
it was time to clean up the tent for inspection. Her corner of
the tent was never in order, and as a result the Omegas were
getting low marks in inspection, much to their disgust, for the
rivalry between the two tents was very keen. Gladys had
officially joined the Winnebagos, having come into the group at
the last Council Fire as Kamama the Butterfly. The very name she
chose was an illustration of her character. She had no higher
ambition than to be a society butterfly. Nyoda sighed, but she
knew Gladys was not to blame, for she had been brought up in an
artificial atmosphere of fashion and snobbery.

Nyoda saw at once that in order to get the most good out of camp
Gladys must be on the same basis as the other girls, so she
defined their relative positions clearly at the beginning.
Gladys's father owned the camp, so they were in a measure her
guests; therefore, Nyoda would not let her pay a share of the
provisions, thus evening things up. Gladys had now been in camp
nearly two weeks, but she had not entered heart and soul into the
life as the others had. And it was not because they had left her
out of things--every girl had gone out of her way to make her
feel at home. The fault was clearly Gladys's own.

Nyoda was thinking about all these things when her reverie was
interrupted by the sound of an automobile horn, and in a few
moments a man came down the path from the road. He approached
her and introduced himself as Mr. Bailey. He was a private
detective, he said, and was trying to locate a child that had
strayed or been kidnapped from a family on the other end of the
lake. He was visiting all the camps to see if any one had seen
the child. Nyoda shook her head. "We haven't seen any child
around here," she said. "Was it a girl or a boy?"

"A boy," answered Mr. Bailey, "three years old; at the time of
his disappearance he wore a white sailor suit and hat."

"When did he disappear?" asked Nyoda.

"Last Thursday night.