“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 was to her own best girl friend, and she also knew that Tavia fully appreciated the friendship of the handsome young cousin.

“When’s Tavia coming?” asked Roger, another special friend of the girl without wisdom.

“I hope she will be here before I start for the Lake,” replied Dorothy.  “She always enjoys the Cedars more than she does any other summer place.”

“Hope she does, too,” replied Nat, with unhidden warmth.  “I want to put a flea in her ear before she runs any further risks with the knight of the horse.”

“Really,” said Dorothy, aside to Ned, when she had an opportunity of speaking privately, “there is something very mysterious about that man.  I have an uncanny feeling regarding him, and Cologne told me he had written a letter to Tavia.”

“Did, eh?” and Ned, the elder of the White boys, instantly put on a defensive air.  “Well, whoever he may be, he had better be careful.  We happen to have a——­”

“Children,” called Major Dale, “if you are going out to look for your bandit, you had best be at it.  He will have all his best holding-up-ing done and be off to his cave with the spoils before you—­beard him outside of his lair.”

Just what Ned was going to confide in Dorothy about the strange man was left unfinished much to Dorothy’s disappointment, for she felt that the boys had some important clue as to the identity of the queer character.  However, there was no time for further confidences, and she was obliged to run off to her little personal duties, while the boys made ready to explore the woods.

They proposed to lie in wait for the bandit for some time, and, if he did not put in an appearance, they planned to explore the woodland for at least half a mile around.  They felt sure that they would come upon his tracks not far from the spot where Dorothy had been attacked, for it seemed reasonable to them, that any boy, or man, dressed as he was described to have been gotten up, would not attempt to go far from his hiding place.