Her chums followed her example, but Grace could not forbear giving the men one glance.
"They're talking together," she reported in a low voice.
"Let 'em talk—as long as they don't talk to us," answered Mollie.
The men seemed to have decided on something after a conference, for the one who had first hailed the girls now called again:
"I say, young ladies, we don't mean to be impolite or to bother you, but we're looking for a boat, and"
"This boat isn't for sale," said Betty in noncommittal tones. "We have no time to stop."
"But you don't understand," cried the man, seemingly growing desperate. "One of our boats was taken last night by a young fellow, and he came down the river. We followed him, but we must have passed him in the night. Now we're on our way back. He may have hid in some bayou, and be on his way down farther up stream. All we wanted to know was if you had seen a tall young fellow, with blue eyes, in a small skiff?"
Betty returned no answer. It was not a question, strictly speaking. The men had merely said they wanted to know, and Betty saw no reason for gratifying their "want."
