Dorothy felt as if she must speak—­must ask them to take her back to the camp, wherever it might be.  But suppose they should take her for that demented girl?  No, she must find her way on alone.  Perhaps she could follow them.

By this time the two canoeists had glided on ahead.  Dorothy felt as if her heart would choke her!  Then her father was still bearing up, waiting for her!  She must soon reach him!

A shout from the bank, and the two young men turned into shore.  “Come on,” some one called.  “We have a clew.  Get in here.  We must get over to——­”

But that was all Dorothy heard, and again she was alone on the lake.

For the space of a moment or so she felt that she had made a mistake, then came the awful thought of that sanitarium, and the knowledge that the people from there were searching everywhere for her.

“No, I will go down the lake a little farther.  At least I am free now,” she told herself.

It was nearing noon, she could tell by the sun, and she felt the need of food.  Just below her she could see that the lake broadened, and there she determined to stop.

Her arms were getting stiff, and the sun burned down on her head, which was uncovered.

“Seems to me I hear voices,” she thought.  “I must go in to shore.”

Gracefully she swung into the grassy bank.  No sooner had her paddle sent her boat within reach of shore than she saw——­

“Oh, my!  It is our camp!” she yelled frantically, jumping out, and attempting to run up the hill toward the barn.  But eager ears had heard her voice.

The next moment Dorothy Dale was clasped in the arms of her father.

CHAPTER XXV

LOOKING FOR TAVIA

What joy there was in that camp when Major Dale actually carried in Dorothy!

A signal had been arranged to notify those in the woods if any good news came, and as Major Dale placed his daughter in the arms of Cologne, Mrs. Markin ran out of doors, and blew the big horn, until she had no more breath left.

This was heard by Jack, Ned and Nat, who were just then preparing to drag the lake.

There were no words to express the joy all felt, but Dorothy looked around for Tavia, and asked frantic questions.

“You must not think of her,” insisted Mrs. Markin, bringing in some warm tea.  “You have done enough for her.  Of course,” she hurried to add, seeing the look that came into Dorothy’s face, “we will find her, but you are not to leave this camp—­well, I don’t know when we will let you leave it again.”

“Oh, you darling!” Cologne was crying hysterically.  “I can never let you out of my sight again!  To think that I should have done so in those deep woods.”

“I have had a great time exploring,” said Dorothy, sipping the refreshing tea, “and I think, Cologne, that there are many kinds of camping days.  But if you will only let me go out, I have an idea I know where Tavia might be.”