But he has no quiet days and no considering time, for from the first, it is apparent that there are peculiar goings on among the families whose cabins line the lake's shore. There are nocturnal meetings, there are mysterious signals, and one night, there is murder. F. Millard, in the absence of the law, takes charge, and once more finds himself in the unwilling role of sleuth, with three small Boy Scouts named Bill as his only assistants.
Eunice Mays Boyd knows the country of which she writes, from its sunlit nights to its mosquito nets, a country where terror stalks by daylight, and there is Doom in the Midnight Sun.
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