"But there will be a return match. Don't forget that! My father is as rich as you are, Mr. Holmes, and when he hears of the way I have been treated, he will spend his last cent, if necessary, to get his revenge on you."

"Dear me, I hope he won't do anything so foolish, Miss Mercer! It would be a dreadful waste of money—and he wouldn't get it, in any case. However, I don't want you to be needlessly worried. Zara will soon be safe with her father. She won't have to stay very long with the estimable Farmer Weeks. You know, I really don't blame her for disliking him."

Zara gave a little cry of joy.

"Will I see my father? Is he well?" she cried.

"Quite well—but very obstinate," said Holmes. "That's your fault, too, Miss Mercer. I'm sorry to say that lately he has seemed to be inclined to listen to your cousin, Mr. Jamieson. He is willing, you see, to deal with whoever happens to be in charge of his daughter. He knows our friend Silas very well—too well, I think. And so, when he knows that Zara is being looked after by him, I think he will be glad to meet my terms, and so secure his freedom."

"You brute!" said Eleanor, hotly. "What are your terms?"

"Ah, that would be telling! You will have to wait to discover that. You see, Silas Weeks wasn't quite as stupid as the rest of the people at Hedgeville, and when he couldn't find out what old Slavin was doing there, he came to me—because he thought I probably could."

"Slavin!" said Eleanor, in an amazed tone. "Is that your father's name, Zara? Why didn't you tell us?"

"He told me not to," said Zara, nervously.

"Zara's father had one bad fault; he wasn't at all ready to trust people," Holmes went on, easily. "He didn't even trust me as he should have done, and he's been positively insulting to Weeks. It's made a lot of trouble for him."

He looked at his watch, then turned to the servant.

"Go upstairs and make the rooms comfortable for Miss Mercer at once," he said. "It's getting late." Then he turned to the men who had accompanied him to the Columbia. "It's all right, boys," he said. "You needn't wait."

"These people keep their ears entirely too wide open," he explained to Eleanor. "I have to be rather careful with them, though they probably wouldn't understand much if they did hear. Well, that is about all I've got to tell you, anyhow. You see, you needn't worry about your friend Zara. As to Bessie—Well, that's different."

He looked at Bessie malevolently.

"I don't think I care to tell you anything more about her," he said. "Weeks will look after her all right—as well as she deserves to be looked after."

Bessie seemed to be nervous as he looked at her, and edged away from him.

"If you think you can keep Bessie in the care of that man Weeks," said Eleanor, "you are going to find yourself decidedly mistaken. He won't treat her properly, and if he doesn't, the courts won't compel her to stay there. I know enough law for that, and I tell you now, that, even though you may have some sort of law on your side just now, because you have played this trick, you won't be able to count on the law much longer. It will be as powerful against you, properly used, as it has been for you, improperly used."

"Oh!" Holmes laughed, unpleasantly. There was no mirth in the laugh, only mockery and contempt. "Really, Miss Mercer—why, where has that little baggage gone to?"

He stared wildly about the room, and Eleanor, startled, looked about her also. Bessie had disappeared; vanished into thin air. In a rage, Holmes darted here and there about the great hall of the house in which they had been standing. But, though he looked behind curtains and all the larger pieces of furniture, and made a great fuss, he found no sign of her. For a moment he was completely baffled, and almost beside himself with rage.

"I always thought villains were clever," said Dolly, as he stood still. Her voice was scornful. "Why, even a girl like Bessie can fool you! She's done it plenty of times before now—you didn't think you could keep her from doing it this time, too, did you?"

"What do you mean!" stormed Holmes, moving toward her, his hand raised as if he meant to strike her. But if he thought he could frighten Dolly he was much mistaken. She faced him calmly.

"You can't make me tell you anything, even if you do hit me," she said. "And you won't find Bessie, either, unless she wants you to. I saw her go—but I'm not going to tell you how she managed it."

"Oh, I'm not going to hit her," yelled Holmes. "What good would that do?"

He sprang to a bell, and pushed it violently. In a moment two or three of the men he had dismissed, thus giving Bessie her chance to escape, answered his summons, and he ordered them to start in search of her at once.

"Find her, and you'll be rewarded," he shouted. "But if you don't, I'll make you pay for it!"

Eleanor had never seen a man in such a furious rage. It was plain that his plan, successful as it seemed to be, was still in danger of being upset, and the knowledge gave Eleanor new hope. It had seemed to her that, with Trenwith turned traitor, there was not one chance in a million to foil Holmes this time. But now everything was changed. He stayed with them only long enough to give them into the keeping of the servant, who came down the stairs just as he finished giving his orders to the men for the pursuit of Bessie.

"If any of them get out, I'll know it's your fault," he said to her. "And you know what I can do to you. You wouldn't like to go to jail for a few years, I guess. You will, if anyone else gets away from this house to-night."

Then he followed the men he had sent out in search of Bessie.

And all the time Bessie herself had heard every word, and seen every action of the scene that followed the discovery of her escape. While Holmes was talking to Eleanor she had seized the chance to slip over to a heavily curtained window, which, she guessed, must open right on the ground.

She took the chance of it being open, and fortune favored her. Concealed by the curtain, she was able to slip out, and then, instead of running as fast and as far as she could, as nine people out of ten would have done, she stayed where she was. She reasoned that there, so close to the house, was the last place where search would be made.

And she was right. She saw Holmes dash from the room; she saw Eleanor and the other girls being led upstairs. And then she not only heard, but saw the pursuit of her that was begun. Men with lanterns searched the grounds; they looked behind every bush. But, though a single glance, almost, would have revealed her had anything like a careful search of the flower beds close to the house been made, no one came near her hiding-place. Between her and the open garden was only a flimsy screen of rose bushes, but it proved enough.

She stayed there, scarcely daring to breathe, while the men searched the grounds and the beach. And she was still there, more than an hour later, when they returned, tired and discouraged, to report the failure of their search to Holmes, who was back in the room from which she had escaped.

"Fury!" cried Holmes. "She must be on the island! There's no way that she can have got away! Well, watch the boats! That will have to do for to-night. She can't get away without a boat—and they are all in the boat-house. If she wanders down to the other end, to the fort, we can catch her in the morning. They won't believe any story she can tell them, if she should happen to get there. And I don't want to disturb them to-night—I'd rather wait until morning, when they will be over with the papers. I haven't any real right to hold them to-night, except the right of force."

Bessie thrilled at the information those few words gave her. She remembered now that there was a fort, manned by United States soldiers, on Humber Island. It was one of the chain of forts that guarded the approaches to Rock Haven. And Bessie had an idea that she would be able to find someone at the fort to believe her story, wild and improbable as she knew it must sound. The great problem now was to get out of the grounds unseen.

And that problem, of course, her cleverness in hiding so close to the house had made much easier to solve. No one would suspect now that she was there; if she waited until the house was quiet, and the men who were to watch the boats had gone to their post, she should be able to steal out of the garden and in the direction of the fort.

To be on the safe side, she waited nearly an hour longer. Then, as quietly as she could, she began her solitary walk. Fortune, and her own ability to move quietly, favored her. In five minutes she was out of the grounds, and in woods where, though the walking was difficult, and she stumbled more than once, she at least felt safe from the danger of pursuit.

Soon the woods began to thin; then they grew thicker again. But, after she had been walking, as she guessed, for more than an hour, it grew lighter and she saw ahead of her the outlines of dark buildings—Fort Humber, she was sure. And a minute later the sharp hail of a sentry halted her, and at the same time made her sure that she had not lost her way.

"Who goes there?" called the sentry.

"I've lost my way," said Bessie, trusting to her voice to make him understand that she was not to be driven away. "Is this the fort? I'd like to see some officer, if you please."

"Wait there! I'll pass the word," said the sentry.

And in a few minutes a young lieutenant came toward her.

"Bless my soul!" he said, "What are you doing here, young lady! Come with me—you can explain inside."

And, once inside the fort, the first person she saw was Charlie Jamieson!



CHAPTER XIV

AT THE FORT

"Bessie King!" he exclaimed amazed. "What on earth, are you doing here? And where is Trenwith?"

"I don't know," said Bessie. She felt safe and for a moment she was on the verge of collapsing completely. But then she remembered that not her own fate alone, but that of the others whom she loved and who had been so good to her depended upon her. And, in a few quick words, she told the story of the accident to the Columbia, with the treachery of Billy Trenwith and the subsequent appearance of Holmes and his men.

"There you are, gentlemen!" said Jamieson, turning to the little group of men in uniform, who, tremendously interested, had listened intently to all that Bessie had said. "You laughed at me—you insisted that the sort of thing I told you about wasn't possible—that it simply couldn't happen in this country, and in this time. What do you think now?"

"I guess it's one on us," said one of the officers, with a reluctant laugh. "But, really, Jamieson, you can't blame us much, can you? It's pretty incredible, even now."

"I'm bothered about Trenwith, though," said Charlie. "Something has gone wrong."

"Miss Mercer is perfectly sure that he is in league with Mr. Holmes," said Bessie. "Do you think that's so, Mr. Jamieson?"

"I hope not," said Charlie, soberly. "I've found out one thing lately though, Bessie;—that when there is money involved, you can never tell what is going to happen."

"Did you know we were here—how did you fold out?"

"No questions just now! It's time something was being done. Tell me, can you take me to this house, and show me how to get in!"

"Yes, I think I can find my way back through the woods."

"No need of that," said one of the officers. "There's a road that leads right to that place. What's Holmes doing there, anyhow? It isn't his place. It belongs to some people who bought it a little while ago."

"Yes, a Mr. and Mrs. Richards," said Charlie. "But from what Bessie here says, he seems to be doing about as he likes with it. Well, I don't want to waste any more time. Do you suppose I can see Colonel Hart!"

"You can unless your eyesight is failing," said the Colonel, appearing in the doorway. He had heard the question, and came forward smiling, his hand outstretched. "How are you, Jamieson? What can I do for you?"

"A great deal, if you will, Colonel," said Charlie. "I'd like to speak to you privately for a minute, if I may—"

"Shabby business—that's what I call it," said one of the young officers. "He knows we're wild to know what's going on, and there he goes off with the old man to tell him about it where we can't hear."

Then one of them happened to think that Bessie might be in need of refreshment after her exciting experiences, and they waited on her as if she had been a princess. By the time she had been able to convince them that she wanted nothing more, Jamieson and the Colonel returned.

"All right, my boy," the colonel was saying. "I'll attend to it, and do as you wish. Maybe it isn't strictly according to the regulations, but I don't believe anyone will ever file charges against me. Depend upon me. You're starting now!"

"Yes," said Jamieson. "Come along, Bessie. We're going back to the house."

"I'm ready," said Bessie, simply.

"You're not afraid?"

"Not as long as you're there. I don't believe Mr. Holmes can do anything while you're around."

"Well, I hope he can't, Bessie. But when they had managed to get away as you did to-night, a whole lot of girls wouldn't be in a hurry to run into the same danger again."

"I wouldn't be very happy about getting away myself unless Zara escaped, too, Mr. Jamieson. And I'm afraid of Mr. Holmes—I don't know what he might do if he were angry enough. I wouldn't be sure that Dolly and Miss Eleanor were safe with him."

"Well, they are, Bessie. Of course, what I'm planning may go wrong, but I feel pretty confident that we are going to give Mr. Holmes the surprise of his life this night."

They walked on steadily through the darkness, the going of course being much easier than Bessie had found it in her flight, since she now had a good road under her feet instead of the stumpy wood path, full of twisted roots and unexpected bumps.

And at last a light showed through the trees to one side of the road, and Bessie stopped.

"That's the place, I'm pretty sure," she said. "I can tell for certain, if we turn in, but I'm sure I didn't pass another house."

So they went in, and a minute's examination enabled Bessie to recognize the grounds. She had had plenty of time to study them earlier in the night, when she had crouched behind the rose bushes, expecting to be discovered and dragged out every time one of the searchers passed near her.

"I wish I knew about Trenwith," said Charlie, anxiously. "That is one part of this night's work that puzzles me. I don't understand it at all, and it worries me."

"He went off with Mr. Holmes after we got inside the house," said Bessie. "But I didn't see him again after that. He wasn't with Mr. Holmes in the big hall again, after I had got away. I'm sure of that."

"What are you going to do now?" asked Bessie.

"I'm not certain. I'd like very much to know where the other girls are. We ought to be all together."

"Perhaps I can find out," said Bessie. "You stay here, and I'll slip along toward the house. If Dolly's awake, I can find out where she is."

"All right. But if you see anyone else, or if anyone interferes with you, call me right away."

Bessie promised that she would, and then she slipped away, and a moment later found herself in front of the house.

"I'll try this side last," she said to herself. "I don't believe they'd put them in front—more likely they'd put them on the east side, because that only looks out over the garden, and there'd be less chance of their seeing anyone who was coming."

So, moving stealthily and as silently as a cat, she went around to that side of the house, and a moment later the strange, mournful call of a whip-poor-will sounded in the still night air. It was repeated two or three times, but there was no answer. Then Bessie changed her calling slightly.

At first she had imitated the bird perfectly. But this time there was a false note in the call—just the slightest degree off the true pitch of the bird's note. Most people would not have known the difference, but to a trained ear that slight imperfection would be enough to reveal the fact that it was a human throat that was responsible, and not a bird's. And the trick served its turn, for there was an instant answer. A window was opened above Bessie, very gently, and she saw Dolly's head peering down over the ivy that grew up the wall.

"Wait there!" she whispered. "Get dressed, all three of you! Mr. Jamieson is here—not far away. I'm going to tell him where you are."

She marked the location of the window carefully, and then, sure that she would remember it when she returned, went back to Jamieson.

"Did you locate them? Good work!" he said. "All right. Go back now and tell them to make a rope of their sheets—good and strong. I saw where you were standing, and, if they lower that, I don't think we will have any trouble getting up to their window. I want to be inside that house—and I don't want Holmes to know I'm there until I'm ready." He chuckled. "He thinks I'm back in the city. I want him to have a real surprise when he finally does see me."

Bessie slipped back then and told Dolly what to do, and in a few minutes the rope of sheets came down, rustling against the ivy. Bessie made the signal she had agreed on with Jamieson at once—a repetition of the bird's call, and he joined her. Then he picked her up and started her climbing up the wall, with the aid of tie rope and the ivy.

For a girl as used to climbing trees as Bessie, it was a task of no great difficulty, and in a minute she was safely inside the room, and had turned to watch Jamieson following her. His greater weight made his task more difficult, and twice those above had all they could do to repress screams of terror, for the ivy gave way, and he seemed certain to fall.

But he was a trained athlete, and a skillful climber as well, and, difficult as the ascent proved to be for him, he managed it, and clambered over the sill of the window and into the room, breathless, but smiling and triumphant.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here, Charlie!" said Eleanor. "There is someone we can trust, after all, isn't there?"

"Oh, sure!" he said. "Don't you take on, Nell, and don't ask a lot of questions now. It'll be daylight pretty soon—and, believe me, when the light comes, there's going to be considerable excitement around these parts."

"But why did you bring Bessie back here? How did she find you?"

He raised his hand with a warning gesture, and smiled.

"Remember, Nell, no questions!" he said. "All we can do just now is to wait."

Wait they did—and in silence, save for an occasional whisper.

"That man Holmes has a woman guarding us," whispered Eleanor. "She is just outside the door in the hall—sleeping there. The idea is to keep us from leaving these rooms. Evidently they never thought of our going by the window. We did think of it, but we couldn't see any use in it, because we felt we wouldn't know where to go on this island, even if we got outside the grounds!"

"That's what he counted on, I guess," answered Charlie. "I'm glad you stayed. Cheer up, Nell! You're going to have a package of assorted surprises before you're very much older!"

To the five of them, practically imprisoned, it seemed as if daylight would never come. But at last a faint brightness showed through the window, and gradually the objects in the room became more distinct. And, with the coming of the light, there came also sounds of life in the house. The voices of men sounded from the garden, and Charlie smiled.

"They'll begin wondering about that rope and footprints under this window pretty soon," he said. "And I guess none of them will be exactly anxious to tell Holmes, either."

He was right, for in a few moments excited voices echoed from below, and then there was an argument.

"Well, he's got to be told," said one man. "It's your job, Bill."

"Suppose you do it yourself."

Apparently, they finally agreed to go together. And five minutes later there was a commotion outside the door.

"Here's where I take cover!" whispered Charlie, with a grin. And, just before the door was opened, and Holmes burst in, his face livid with anger, the lawyer hid himself behind a closet door.

Holmes started at the sight of the four girls standing there, fully dressed, his jaw dropping.

"So you're all here?" he said, an expression of relief gradually succeeding his consternation. "Found you couldn't get away, eh, Bessie? Why didn't you come to the front door instead of climbing in that way? We'd have let you in all right." He laughed, harshly.

"Well, I've had about all the trouble you're going to give me," he said. "Silas Weeks will be here to take care of you pretty soon, my girl, and now that he's got you in the state where you belong, I guess you won't get away again very soon."

"What state do you think this island is in!" asked Charlie Jamieson, appearing suddenly from his hiding-place.

Holmes staggered back. For a moment he seemed speechless. Then he found his tongue.

"What are you doing here? How did you get into my house?" he snarled. "I'll have you arrested as a burglar."

"Ah, no, you won't," said Charlie, pleasantly. "But I'm going to have you arrested—for kidnapping. Answer my question—do you think this is in the state where the courts have put Bessie in charge of Silas Weeks?"

"Certainly it is," said Holmes, blustering.

"You ought to keep up with the news better, Mr. Holmes. The United States Government has bought this island for military purposes. It's a Federal reservation now, and the writ of the state courts has no value whatever. Even the land this house stands on belongs to the government now—it was taken by condemnation proceedings."

Eleanor gave a glad cry at the good news. At last she understood the trap into which Holmes had fallen.

"Look outside—look through the window!" said Jamieson.

Holmes rushed to the window, and his teeth showed in a snarl at what he saw.

"You can't get away, you see," said Jamieson. "There isn't any sentiment about those soldiers. They'd shoot you if you tried to run through them. I'd advise you to take things easily. There'll be a United States marshal to take you in charge pretty soon. He's on his way from Rock Haven now. He'll probably come on the same boat that brings Silas Weeks—and some other people you are not expecting."

Holmes slumped into a chair. Defeat was written in his features. But he pulled himself together presently.

"You've got the upper hand right now," he said. "But what good does it do you? I'm the only one who knows the truth, and the reason for all this. They won't do anything to me—they can't prove any kidnapping charge. The boat was disabled—I entertained these girls over night when they were stranded here."

"We'll see about that," said Jamieson, quietly. "And I may know more than you think I've been finding out a few things since the talk I had with Jake Hoover in Bay City yesterday. Did you know that he was arrested the day before yesterday at Plum Beach?"

Evidently Holmes had not known it. The news was a fresh shock to him. But he was determined not to admit defeat.

"Much good he'll do you!" he said. "He doesn't know anything—even if he thinks he does."



CHAPTER XV

THE MYSTERY SOLVED

There was a knock at the door, and, in answer to Jamieson's call to come in, one of the young officers Bessie had seen at the fort entered. He smiled cheerfully at Bessie, saluted the other girls, and grinned at Jamieson.

"We've herded all the people we found around the place down in the boat-house," he said. "They were too scared to do anything. Is this your man Holmes?"

"You guessed right the very first time, Lieutenant," said Charlie. "Any sign of that boat from Rock Haven?"

"She's just coming in," said the officer. "She ought to land her passengers at the pier in about ten minutes."

"Then it's time to go down to meet her," said Charlie. "Come on, girls, and you too, Holmes. You'll be needed down there. And I guess you'll find it worth your while to come, too."

Holmes, protesting, had no alternative, and in sullen silence he was one of the little group that now made its way toward the pier. She was just being tied up as they arrived, and Silas Weeks, his face full of malign triumph at the sight of Bessie and Zara, was the first to step ashore.

"Got yer, have I?" he said. He turned to a lanky, angular man who was at his side. "There y'are, constable," he said. "There's yer parties—them two girls there! Arrest them, will yer?"

"Not here, I won't," said the constable. "You didn't tell me it was to come off here. This is government land—I ain't got no authority here."

"You keep your mouth shut and your eyes and ears open, Weeks," said Jamieson, before the angry old farmer could say anything. Then he stepped forward to greet a man and woman who had followed Weeks down the gangplank.

"I'm glad you're here, Mrs. Richards, and you too, Mr. Richards," he said. "I'm going to be able to keep my promise."

Holmes was staring at Mrs. Richards and her husband in astonishment.

"You here, Elizabeth?" he exclaimed. "And Henry, too? I didn't know you were coming!"

"We decided to come quite unexpectedly, Morton," said the lady, quietly. She was a woman of perhaps forty-two or three, tall and distinguished in her appearance. But, like her husband, her face showed traces of privations and hardship.

Behind them came a stiff, soldierly looking man, in a blue suit, and him Jamieson greeted with a smile and handshake.

"There's your man, marshal," he said, pointing to Holmes. "I guess he won't make any resistance."

And, while Mr. and Mrs. Richards stared in astonishment, and Weeks turned purple, the marshal laid his hand on the merchant's shoulder, and put him under arrest. Holmes was trapped at last.

"What does this mean?" Mrs. Richards asked, indignantly. "What are you doing to my brother, Mr. Jamieson?"

"That's quite a long story, Mrs. Richards," he answered, easily. "And, strange as it may seem, I'll have to answer it by asking you and your husband some questions that may seem very personal. But I've made good with you so far, and I can assure you that you will have no cause to regret answering me."

Mrs. Richards bowed.

"In the first place, you and your husband have been away from this part of the country for quite a long time, haven't you?"

"Yes. For a number of years."

"And you have not always been as well off, financially, as you are now?"

"That is quite true. My husband, shortly after our marriage, failed in business, owing—owing to conditions he couldn't control."

"Isn't it true, Mrs. Richards, that those conditions were the result of his marriage to you? Didn't your father, a very rich man, resent your marriage so deeply that he tried to ruin your husband in order to force you to leave him?"

There were tears in the woman's eyes as she nodded her head in answer.

"Thank you. I know this is very painful—but I must really do all this. You refused to leave your husband, however, and when he decided to go to Alaska, you went with him?

"And there he made a lucky strike, some four or five years ago, that made him far richer than he had ever dreamed of becoming?"

"That is quite true."

"But, although you were rich, you did not come home? You spent a good deal of time in the Far North, and when you went out for a rest, you came no further east than Seattle or San Francisco?"

"There was no reason for us to come here. All our friends had turned against us in our misfortunes, and our only child was dead. So it was only a few months ago that we came home."

"That is very tragic. Thank you, Mrs. Richards. One moment—I have another question to ask."

He stepped toward the gangplank.

"I will be back in a moment," he said.

He went on board the boat, and while all those on the dock, puzzled and mystified by his questions, waited, he disappeared. When he returned he was not alone. A woman was with him, and, at the sight of her Bessie gave a cry of astonishment.

"Now, Mrs. Richards," said Charlie. "Have you ever seen this woman before?"

"I think I have," she said, in a strange, puzzled tone. "But—she has changed so—"

"Her name is Mrs. Hoover, Mrs. Richards. Does that help you to remember?"

"Oh!" Mrs. Richards sobbed and burst into tears. "Mrs. Hoover!" she said, brokenly. "To think that I could forget you! Tell me—"

"One moment," said Charlie, interrupting. His own voice was not very steady, and Eleanor, a look of dawning understanding in her eyes, was staring at him, greatly moved. "It was with Mrs. Hoover that you left your child when you went west under an assumed name, was it not? It was she who told you that she had died?"

"Oh, I lied to you—I lied to you!" wailed Maw Hoover, breaking down suddenly, and throwing herself at the feet of Mrs. Richards. "She wasn't dead. It was that wicked Mr. Holmes and Farmer Weeks who made me say she was."

"What?" thundered Richards. "She isn't dead? Where is she?"

"Bessie!" said Charlie, calling to her sharply. "Here is your daughter, Mrs. Richards, and a daughter to be proud of!"

And the next moment Bessie, Bessie King, the waif no longer, but Bessie Richards, was in her mother's arms!

"So Mr. Holmes was Bessie's uncle!" said Eleanor, amazed. "But why did he act so?"

"I can explain that," said Charlie, sternly. "It was he who set his father so strongly against his sister's marriage to Mr. Richards. He expected that he would inherit, as a result, her share of his father's estate, as well as his own. But his plans miscarried. Mrs. Richards and her husband had disappeared before her father's death, and, when he softened and was inclined to relent, he could not find them. But he knew they had a daughter, and he left to her his daughter's share of his fortune—over a million dollars. There was no trace of the child, however, and so there was a provision in the will that if she did not come forward to claim the money on her eighteenth birthday it should go to her uncle—to Holmes."

"I always said it was money that was making him act that way!" cried Dolly Ransom.

"Yes," said Jamieson. "He had squandered much of his own money—he wanted to make sure of getting Bessie's fortune for himself. So when he learned through Silas Weeks where the child was, he paid Mrs. Hoover to tell her parents she was dead, and then, after she had run away, he and Weeks did all they could to get her back to a place where there was no chance of anyone finding out who she was. They nearly succeeded—but I have been able to block their plans. And one reason is that they were greedy and they couldn't let Zara Slavin and her father alone. He is a great inventor and they profited by his ignorance of American customs."

"I only found out her name last night," said Eleanor. "I wondered if he could be the Slavin who invented the new wireless telephone—"

"They got him into jail on a trumped-up charge," said Charlie. "And then they tried to keep Zara away from people who might learn the truth from her, and offer to supply the money he needed. In a little while they would have robbed him of all the profits of his invention."

"I'll finance it myself," said Richards, "and he can keep all of the profit."

Bessie's father and mother were far too glad to get her back to want to punish Ma Hoover, who was sincerely repentant. They could hardly find words enough to thank Eleanor and Dolly for their friendship, and to Charlie Jamieson their gratitude was unbounded.

But suddenly, even while the talk was at its height, there was a diversion. Billy Trenwith, his clothes torn, his hands chafed and bleeding, appeared on the dock.

"Good Heavens, Billy, I'd forgotten all about you!" said Charlie. "Where have you been?"

"How can you speak to him as a friend after the way he betrayed us?" asked Eleanor, indignantly, and Billy winced. But Charlie laughed happily.

"He didn't betray you," said he. "I cooked up this whole thing, just to catch Holmes red-handed, and he walked right into the trap. I told Billy not to tell you, because I wanted you to act so that Holmes wouldn't know it was a trick."

"He didn't trust me, though," said Billy, ruefully. "As soon as he had the girls, he tied me up and chucked me into his cellar so that I couldn't change my mind, he said. That's why I didn't meet you at the fort."

Eleanor, shamefaced and miserable, looked at him. Then, with tears in her eyes, she held out her hand to him.

"Can you ever forgive me?" she asked.

"You bet I can!" he shouted. "Why, you were meant to think just what you did! There's nothing to forgive!"

"I ought to have known you couldn't do a mean, treacherous thing," she said.

"All's well that ends well," said Charlie, gaily. "Now as to your brother, Mrs. Richards? I don't suppose you want him arrested?"

"No—oh, no!" said she, looking at Holmes contemptuously.

"Then, if you'll withdraw the charge of kidnapping, Eleanor, he can go."

And the next moment Holmes, free but disgraced, slunk away, and out of the lives of those he had so cruelly wronged.

* * * * *

Sunset of that day found them all back at Plum Beach, where the Camp Fire Girls, who had been almost frantic at their long absence, greeted them with delight. The story of Bessie's restoration to her parents, and of the good fortune that was soon to be Zara's, seemed to delight the other girls as much as if they themselves were the lucky ones, and Gladys Cooper, completely restored to health, was the first to kiss Bessie and wish her joy.

And after dinner Eleanor, blushing, rose to make a little speech.

"You know, girls," she said, "Margery Burton is to be a Torch-Bearer as soon as we get back to the city. And you are going to need a new Guardian soon. She will be chosen—and she will make a better one than I have been, I think."

There was a chorus of astonished cries.

"But why are you going to stop being Guardian, Miss Eleanor?" asked Margery.

"Because—because—"

"I'll tell you why," said Billy Trenwith, leaping up and standing beside her. "It's because she's going to be married to me!"

There was a moment of astonished silence. And then, from every girl there burst out, without signal, the words of the Camp Fire song:

"Wo-he-lo—wo-he-lo—wo he-lo—Wo-he-lo for Love!"

THE END