“Oh, no,” answered Miss Elting.  “He seemed perfectly satisfied with what I told him, but he did spend quite a time strolling up and down the beach, out beyond the bar.”

Harriet had overheard the conversation between Miss Elting and Mrs. Livingston.  She smiled at the thought of the light she might possibly shed on the inquiry made by the visitor that afternoon.

The girls were sleepy that night and retired early, all save Harriet Burrell and Tommy, who asked permission to sit out on the bar in front of the cabin, which permission Miss Elting readily granted.  But Tommy soon grew weary and stumbled into the cabin, where she floundered about sleepily until she had awakened everyone of her companions.

Soon after the camp had settled down Harriet was conscious of a renewal of the previous night’s activity on board the sloop, and in due time the wireless sparks began sputtering from the aerials at the masthead.

They had hardly begun when they abruptly ceased.  Her ears caught the sound of the anchor chain scraping through the hawse-hole.  The anchor came aboard with a clatter, the mainsail was sent to the peak in short order, the boom swung over and the big sail caught the faint breeze that drifted in from the sea.  The sloop, to her amazement, moved out from the bay.  No sooner had it cleared the land than a fresh ocean breeze heeled the boat down, sending it rapidly out to sea, where it soon disappeared, sailing without any lights whatever, even the riding light having been taken in before the captain had started out.

“What can it mean?” wondered Harriet Burrell.  “I know something questionable is going on here, but what is it?”

There was no answer to the question.  The tide was now booming on the beach and a fresher breeze was springing up, the wind outside having veered until it blew directly into the cove.  The girl waited for the return of the “Sister Sue” until long after midnight, then went to bed.  The sky had become overcast and a spattering of raindrops smote her in the face.  The prospect was for a drizzly night.

When the camp awakened next morning the sloop was at her anchorage.  What time she had come in Harriet had not the slightest idea, but it must have been early in the morning, because the skipper was just furling the mainsail as the girl emerged from the cabin.  The sail was so soaked that he had difficulty in bending it to the boom to which he was trying to house it.  But Harriet Burrell said nothing of her discovery at breakfast that morning.  Later in the day she confided the secret to Tommy.  The latter twisted her face, grimaced and winked wisely.  The two girls understood each other.

Captain Bill did not mention having been out with the boat, though Harriet gave him an excellent opportunity to do so that same day.  A drenching drizzle fell all day long.  Of course, this did not interfere with the camp work.  The Camp Girls never ceased their labors for rain or storm of any kind.  Later on in the day the Meadow-Brook Girls went aboard the sloop with their guardian, principally for the reason that Harriet wished to take further lessons in seamanship.  She had learned her compass card well and earned the praise of the grizzled old skipper, but she was ambitious to accomplish greater things.