whether they need it or not.”
Jack acted on the suggestion, and made so many sales that when the people finally drifted homeward it was too late to go on that night. They put up in a woods just outside of the town, and after supper Desiré made a discovery that did not altogether please her.
“Did you know that some Indians are camped a little farther down the road?” she asked Jack.
“Yes. They may be on their way to the festival of St. Anne’s that the man spoke of this afternoon. I’m sure they’re quite harmless.”
“Oh, I want to see them!” exclaimed René, starting up.
With a quick move, Jack caught the end of the child’s blouse and prevented his departure.
“You’ve seen plenty of Indians today to last you for one while, young man. Besides, it’s your bedtime.”
“No! No!” wailed René, twisting in his brother’s grasp.
“He’s tired,” murmured Desiré sympathetically.
“Can’t act like this, even if he is,” said Jack firmly. “René, behave yourself or you’ll have to be punished.”
The tantrum showed no signs of abating; so Jack promptly picked him up and started for a nearby stream, much to his sister’s distress; though she never dreamed of interfering when Jack decided that disciplinary measures were necessary.
Upon reaching the brook, Jack held the boy securely and ducked him a couple of times. Since the purpose of the procedure was punishment, it was rather disconcerting to have the child’s tantrum cries change suddenly into squeals of delight.
“Oh, Jack,” he sputtered, “do it again. I love the water.”
Even the serious Jack, in spite of his stern resolves, was quite overcome by the humor of the situation; so he decided to say no more about punishment. However, when he got back to the wagon, he rubbed the little fellow down and put him to bed, refusing Desiré’s assistance. He and Desiré enjoyed a good laugh over the incident when the younger children were safe in bed.
“Well, this time tomorrow night, I hope we’ll be in Annapolis Royal,” he said, shortly after; “and being a longish drive, I guess we’d better go to bed now.”
That interesting old town was not to see them on the morrow, however.
Jack was the first to waken on the following morning, much later than usual, and was surprised to find his tent mate gone. Peering out toward the wagon, he saw Desiré getting out of the back of it.
“Dissy,” he called, using René’s name for her.
“Yes? I was just going to waken you. I’m awfully sorry, but we overslept this morning—”
“Have you seen René?” he interrupted.
“No! Isn’t he with you?”
Desiré stood still, letting the pan which she had in her hand fall to the ground.
CHAPTER XII
A SEARCH FOR RENÉ
“He was gone when I woke up,” called Jack, who had been dressing rapidly. He came out of the tent and began looking about the wagon, tent, and surrounding woods in the persistent fashion of people, who, under like circumstances, feel that although search is useless, action of some kind is an immediate necessity.
“What ever shall we do?” whispered Desiré, tears streaming down her cheeks, when Jack returned from a fruitless search of the nearby places.
“Don’t get excited, dear,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “He could have come to no harm, and I’ll find him all right.”
“But you must have help. Oh, I wish we were near the Riboux family!”
“We’ll drive back into the town to make inquiry, and then see what can be done. I know he’s not around here; for I’ve searched everywhere.”
“The—the brook?” faltered Desiré.
“Yes, I rather thought I might find him playing there. He enjoyed it so much last night,” he added, with a feeble effort at a smile, “but there’s no sign of him. Anyway, the water’s not deep enough to drown a dog, much less a hearty youngster.”
“Jack—the Indians—”
“Now, Desiré, don’t let your imagination run away with you. They’re perfectly harmless.”
“What I mean is, could Renny be with them?”
“The camp’s gone. They must have pulled out at daybreak—”
“Well, but he may have followed them,” persisted Desiré. “You know how wild he was to go over there last night.”
“It’s a possibility,” replied Jack, thoughtfully. “Probably you’re right. If so, he is perfectly safe; and I’ll find out in town how to reach them. We’d better eat, and then drive back.”
They roused Priscilla, who began to cry as soon as she heard of her brother’s disappearance, and continued until Jack said gravely—
“Don’t make matters worse, Prissy; you can help by being cheerful. Never cry until you’re sure there is something to cry about. It’s a waste of good energy.”
“Now for town,” he continued, as they at last climbed into the wagon which seemed strangely empty without the little boy. Jack was assuming a forced cheeriness, which he was far from feeling; for in spite of his advice to Desiré, he was consumed with anxiety. He felt relieved, now, at the outcome of the “punishment” last night; if René had minded, they might think he had run away. But perhaps he had been wrong in adopting this kind of a life, with the children. If anything happened to them!
He was interrupted by hearing Desiré say—
“Prissy, you sit in the back of the wagon and keep watch on the road to see if you can discover any traces of René.”
“Jack, dear,” she went on softly, as they drove into Bear River again, “please don’t blame yourself for what has happened. It surely wasn’t your fault, or anybody’s for that matter. He might have wandered off, even if we’d been at home; and I feel sure he is safe with the Indians.”
“You’re a comfort, Dissy,” replied her brother, managing a half smile.
In front of the post office stood the very man who had given them the information concerning the Indians’ pilgrimage, on the preceding day; and, pulling up, Jack told him in a few words what had happened.
“Now that’s too bad,” replied the man with genuine concern, resting one foot on the wheel hub; “if I was you—”
“Is it far to the Island of the Holy Family?” interrupted Desiré.
“Oh, yes; and come to think on’t, I don’t suppose that band was goin’ there anyhow; they’d not get there in time. They’re probably on their
