"Good-day," they echoed mechanically, and with puzzled eyes watched him disappear in the direction of the railroad station on the flats. Then they faced each other.

"Do you s'pose we better—" began Susie slowly.

"Not tell?" ventured Inez.

"And eat all the candy ourselves?" added Irene.

There was a moment's pause while three active brains worked furiously.

Then Susie sighed, "I b'lieve he's right. Tabitha would never trust us again. We better keep still about the whole thing."

"Then we'll have to hurry and clear up this mess," said Irene. "We can hide the candy until later, but this table would give everything away."

So the trio flew to work again, put away the remains of the tramp's dinner, washed the telltale dishes, and had the kitchen in its usual spick and span order when the rest of the large family returned an hour later from their sojourn to the river. If their consciences pricked them a little for their deception, they said nothing, not even to each other; and it was several days before the young housekeeper discovered their secret.



CHAPTER XI

IN THE CANYON

The next day was Saturday, and the morning dawned so hot and sultry that almost before the old kitchen clock struck five, the restless eaglets were stirring once more.

"Now's the time I wish we didn't live so far up the mountain," sighed Mercedes, mopping her perspiring face on her sleeve as she struggled to button the dress she had just donned.

"Yes, summer's an awful trial here in this house," agreed Susie, trying to decide whether to put on her shoes and stockings and suffer from the heat in that manner, or to go bare-footed and burn her tender soles on the hot sands.

"Le's do down to the river to-day," lisped Janie, lifting eager eyes to scan the dark face bending over, as Tabitha patiently brushed the tangled curls into smooth ringlets.

"Oh, let's!" seconded the twins.

"You know we had to stay at home yesterday when the rest of you went," wheedled Inez.

"And 'twould have been awful lonesome," began Irene, "if it hadn't been for that——"

"Ice-cream," hastily interposed Susie, giving the little blunderbus a warning glance. "Can't we go, Tabitha? It would be so much cooler there."

"I don't see how we can manage it," answered the flushed housekeeper, glancing longingly out of the window down the yellow ribbon of a road which wound its way in and out among the rocks and yuccas on its way to the muddy Colorado, seven miles away. "The assayer will be wanting his horses to-day and it's too far to walk."

"Can't we hire a team from the stables?" proposed Inez.

"And pay ten dollars a day for it?" scoffed Mercedes. "Where are you going to get your money to foot the bill?"

"Then let's catch enough burros to lug us all," suggested the resourceful Susie. "No one would care. They run loose on the desert all the time."

Tabitha shook her head slowly, although her eyes gleamed appreciatively at the plan. If only Rosslyn and Janie were older! How she would enjoy such a frolic as Susie's suggestion would mean.

Only Gloriana remained discreetly silent.

She shuddered whenever she recalled her first and only ride on one of the wicked little beasts,—that wild New Years Even when she and Tabitha had tried to keep Mr. McKittrick's claims from being jumped,—and she drew an audible sigh of relief at Tabitha's decision. But the next instant her heart sank within her, for with a scurry of feet in the narrow hallway, the door of the room was unceremoniously flung open, and two eager, boyish faces peered in.

"I say, Tab," began Billiard, so excited he could hardly refrain from shouting his news, "your Uncle Decker is out here——"

"And he's brung a whole—flock—of burros," broke in Toady, so anxious to tell part of the good news that he could not stop for choice of words.

"Saddled," Billiard hurried on, trying to beat Toady to the climax.

"For us!" cried the smaller boy.

"To ride to the canyon on!" bellowed the two as with one voice.

"Really?" gasped Tabitha.

"How perfectly scrumptious!" squealed the tribe of McKittrick.

"But Janie and Rosslyn," faltered Gloriana faintly. "Aren't they too small——"

"Oh, he's got a buckboard, too," grinned Billiard, who had recently discovered the red-haired maid's poor little secret; but forbore to make unkind remarks about it because he himself stood somewhat in awe of the sleepy-eyed demons of the desert, since one had unexpectedly kicked him when he was trying to mount. "He drove in for some provisions, and your father told him to bring us all back with him, and we're to camp at the mines until Monday. Won't that be great? Whoop-ee!" He leaped into the air, cracked his heels together and came down with a resounding thump which shook the whole house and made the dishes in the pantry rattle.

But no word of reproof was uttered, for Tabitha had seized the half-dressed, half-combed Janie in her arms, and rushed from the room. It seemed impossible that anyone could have come up that narrow, rocky trail to the Eagles' Nest with a half dozen or more burros and a buckboard without her having heard them, but there they were lined up by the kitchen steps,—seven sleepy-eyed, wicked little burros, saddled and bridled, and a pair of small, wiry mustangs hitched to a light wagon, and driven by Decker Simmons, Mr. Catt's partner.

"Why, Uncle Decker!" Tabitha began.

"Didn't we tell you he was here?" exulted the two boys who had followed her.

"But—but—" she stammered.

"But she didn't b'lieve us," crowed Toady.

"I thought you must be mistaken," she confessed, "for I could not imagine anyone so crazy as to want ten children under foot at a mine. Whatever possessed Dad, Uncle Decker?"

The man laughed good-naturedly. "Thought we all needed a vacation, I reckon," he answered. "Are you anywhere near ready? Better hurry. Sun will soon be unmercifully hot, and the canyon isn't exactly within walking distance. Can't I help?"

"No, thanks. It won't take us long——"

"We're ready now," announced the procession of girls crowded around her.

"Mercy finished Janie's hair while you stood here gabbing. Glory packed up what duds we'd need, and Billiard's got the house all locked up. Who's to take which burro?"

"Makes no difference," answered the man, chuckling at the despatch with which preparations for the outing were made. "Put the little tikes in here with me, and any of the rest of you who perfer the buckboard can pile in. That red—the girl with the game hip—you better ride with us, too."

This suited Gloriana perfectly, and she lost no time in making herself comfortable among the leather cushions with Rosslyn and Janie beside her; but the rest of the party declined that method of transportation, and mounted the animals standing patiently in the scant shade of the porch. In less time than it takes to tell, the hilarious procession was on its way to the canyon, and the baking town was left behind.

"Let's race," cried Billiard, who was mounted on an innocent-looking, lazy beast.

"Come on!" cried Susie, giving her animal a prod with a sharp stick she had snatched from the woodpile as they clattered out of the yard; and away they flew, shouting and flapping reins, urging the stolid little burros out of their poky gait into a surprised run.

But the race came to an abrupt and unexpected end. Susie's mount seemed more ambitious than its mates, or else the youthful rider goaded it to desperation; for, with a mighty spurt, it took the lead, and shot three lengths ahead of the rest, cantering off across the desert as if racing were its daily delight. Rosy-cheeked Susie glanced back over her shoulder, waved the sharp stick triumphantly in the air, and jeered, "Yah, yah! Why don't you come along? Has you burro gone to sleep?"

This was too much for Billiard, and grabbing a needle-pointed Spanish bayonet frond from the hands of his brother, he gave the brown-coated beast beneath him a vicious stab, as he yelled in disgust, "Giddap, you old demon! Wake up and stretch your legs a lit——"

Brownie awoke into surprising activity, leaped forward with unseating suddenness, planted his forefeet firmly among the rocks, and with one deliberate, energetic kick, sent Billiard flying through the air. The watchers behind held their breath in terror. Would the boy be killed for his folly? Then a wild shout of laughter rose from eight throats. But who could have resisted it? For the luckless Billiard, after turning a summersault high in the air, fell astraddle the neck of Toady's burro, and slipped to the ground in a sprawling heap, while the second startled beast bolted across the desert with its plucky rider still clinging to its back.

The dazed Billiard picked himself up from the ground considerably shaken but not hurt, and gazing ruefully first after his own fleeing burro, and then after Toady's, now far in advance of Susie's little animal, remarked, "Well, the old thing has got some ginger in him after all! Do you suppose I can ever catch him?"

"I'll help," quickly volunteered Tabitha, trying hard to suppress her mirth, so meek and woebegone was the tumbled figure standing in the roadway; and with a nimble spring she landed beside him, tethering her burro to a yucca, growing close at hand. Mercedes and the twins followed her example, but it was a lively chase they had before the unruly animal was finally captured, and the party continued its journey, reaching their destination without further mishap.

Gloriana was disappointed at first, as she looked about her while her companions were dismounting, for she had expected to see a canyon like those lovely spots hidden among the San Bernardino hills; but this place was no different from the rocky, barren mountains surrounding Silver Bow. However, there was little time for lamentations, for with surprising ingenuity, Mr. Catt had arranged a delightful program for the two days the young folks were in camp, and not a moment of the brief holiday was dull even for Rosslyn and Janie. So it was with reluctant hearts that the party mounted their burros Monday morning for their return trip.

"Where are the boys?" inquired Mercedes curiously, as she sprang nimbly into her saddle and gathered up the reins ready to start.

"Susie isn't here, either," said Tabitha, pausing in her task of packing to count noses. "They must be in the tent. I saw them not very long ago. Dad, are the boys ready?"

"Haven't seen them," he answered emerging from one of the tents with a light grip and dumping it into the back of the buckboard.

"I saw Billiard and Toady whispering something to Susie just as the wagon drove up," tattled Inez, provoked to think she had not been included in the secret, "and they all ran off that way." She pointed up the mountainside, where the mesquite and cacti grew thickest, and huge boulders made climbing difficult.

"What in the world possessed them to go off like that?" fretted Tabitha, impatient at the unexpected delay.

"Bet I know," Irene piped up. "They prob'ly went for a last look at the puppies."

"Puppies!" cried the others in amazement. "Where are there any puppies about here?"

"Quite a piece up there on the other side,—they weren't going to tell the rest of us, but I happened to find them myself."

"Here they come now," Rosslyn excitedly interrupted; and sure enough, the trio had appeared on the hillcrest, each tugging something which squirmed and twisted, and snarled and yapped until their flushed, panting owners could scarcely hold them.

"Holy snakes!" ejaculated Decker Simmons.

Mr. Catt whistled. The rest of the party stared.

"What in creation have you got, Susie McKittrick?" demanded Mercedes, with all the severity her gentle nature could muster, as the three children came within speaking distance, Susie in advance.

"A pup," gasped the red-faced girl, taking a fresh grip on the wriggling, sharp-nosed little animal, half hidden in the torn skirt of her dress. "Isn't he cute? See what bright eyes he's got."

"And see how you've snagged your clothes," said Irene reprovingly.

"And scratched your face," added Inez, glad now that she had not been a party in the expedition.

"That's nothing to what Billiard's did to him," Susie retorted sharply, nettled at her reception. "He picked out the prettiest of the bunch for Tabitha. We told him how much you used to want a dog all your own, Kitty. But it's the wildest thing I ever saw. Here he comes now. Billiard, didn't you choose your pup for Tabitha?"

"Would you accept it?" he panted somewhat shyly, embarrassed and a little provoked that Susie should have announced his intentions the first thing. "I—I got the handsomest fellow of them all, but I pretty near had to club it to death before it would come along peaceably."

"But Billiard," gasped Tabitha, finding her tongue at last, "that isn't a pup!"

"What is it then?" Susie bristled so aggressively that she forgot to keep a tight hold on her unwilling prisoner, and with a final scratch and yap of exultation, it freed itself from her arms, and darted away among the sagebrush.

"A coyote."

"No!" Toady dropped his as if it were poison, and lifted startled eyes to Tabitha's face.

"You're fooling!" cried Susie in exasperation over her loss.

"Dad, Uncle Decker, isn't that a baby coyote?"

Both men nodded silently, a look of amusement flickering about their lips.

"But—but—" spluttered Billiard, still hugging his half-smothered treasure to his bosom. "It—they look like pups."

"Yes, they do, but you found them pretty frisky for pups, didn't you?"

"They were pretty lively," admitted the older boy slowly.

"And as scratchy as—" began Toady.

"As cats," finished Susie, angry at Tabitha for calling the animals coyotes, angry at her sisters for laughing, and angry at herself for not knowing the truth of the matter without being told.

"That's so, too," agreed Mr. Catt amiably. "It beats me how you ever managed to catch them."

"It was a job," sighed Billiard regretfully, freeing the pretty little ball wrapped so snugly in his coat, and watching it skulk away after its two brothers. "We had some empty sacks——"

"But they weren't much good," Susie broke in contemptuously. "If it hadn't been for that can of meat we swiped, we'd never have caught 'em. They bite like everything, as well as scratch."

"Yes," said Billiard mournfully, taking the reins from Tabitha's hands and mounting his burro, "and we had all our pains for nothing."

"Not quite," whispered Tabitha sympathetically. "I understand, and I'm glad you took such trouble for me. But hurry. It's late already, and will be terribly hot before we reach home."

So the party said good-bye to the canyon and set out briskly on their long ride back to Silver Bow, but Tabitha was exultant, for Billiard, unruly, rebellious Billiard was at last completely won.



CHAPTER XII

THE BANK OF SILVER BOW IS ROBBED

"It must have rained here since we left," observed Toady, as they drew near the town.

"Why?" asked Irene curiously.

"'Cause there's a puddle of water in that hollow rock and unless it had rained, how would it get there?"

"By Jove, the lad is right," muttered Decker Simmons to himself. "Queer we didn't get any at the canyon, though. Wonder what's the trouble ahead. Town seems excited. Do you suppose the new postmaster has embezzled his funds already?"

"Uncle Decker," Tabitha's voice interrupted his meditations.

"Yes?"

"Something must have happened in town while we were gone."

"Why?"

"Main street is full of people and the bank platform is black with them. Do you suppose there is another run on the bank, or can it have failed?"

"Why, so 'tis!" ejaculated the man, noting for the first time what Tabitha's keen eyes had seen,—that the greater crowd of the people were gathered in front of the Silver Bow Bank. "Wonder what's up."

"Hello, Simmons," called Dawley, the grocer, from his position in the doorway of his store. "You don't look as if you'd heard the news."

"No. Let's have it." The whole party halted and waited curiously.

"Bank robbed."

"You don't say so! When?"

"Saturday night."

"Get much?"

"Don't know yet, but reckon 'twas only a few hundred. Brinkley lost a lot of provisions, too, but fortunately his safe was empty."

"Well, I declare! Any clue?"

"Not so far. Rain wiped out all tracks that might have been made. Had a corker of a thunderstorm that night."

"Well, well! Now what do you think of that! What steps are you taking toward the capture of the thieves?"

"Posse out scouring the desert."

"Humph!"

"Well, what else can we do without clues?"

"Find some clues. You'll never catch the rascals by scouring the desert with a handful of men. They must have gone into camp close by, or they would never have stocked up. Bet they are new at the business. Must be to make a mistake like that. I'd laugh if they had never left town." And gathering up the reins, he drove on, followed by the cavalcade of burros.

The children were greatly excited. Burglaries in that lonely little desert town were unheard of, and this novel experience furnished food for their lively imaginations to feed upon. Tabitha was particularly impressed, for never before in her short life had a robbery occurred so near home, and she could think of little else. A reward of two hundred dollars had been offered for the capture of the thieves, and as soon as the little brood in the Eagles' Nest heard of this, they began to amuse themselves by telling how they would spend the money if by chance they could win the reward.

"I'd buy me a pony," said Toady, as they sat on the shady side of the house discussing the all-absorbing topic. "Ma said she never should get us another after Spotty kicked her when she struck it with the whip."

"I'd save it towards a motorcycle," declared Billiard boastfully. "No ponies for mine! With another hundred I could get a dandy machine, and then wouldn't you see me spinning about the country just as I pleased!"

"It would almost pay for another term at Ivy Hall," sighed Mercedes, who, though she never mentioned the matter, knew that the family purse was too flat to permit of her returning to her beloved school with the coming of September.

"I'd buy a little house in Los Angeles and go there to live," said Irene. "It must be pretty where there are real trees and flowers the year around."

"It's not your turn," Susie objected. "I'd buy—I'd buy—what would I buy? There are so many things I want, but I b'lieve I'd go travelling. Two hundred dollars would take me quite a piece, and I'd see lots of big cities."

"And I'd go along," breathed Inez in ecstasy, "and we'd beat our way back on freight cars."

"Ho! That wouldn't be any fun," scoffed Rosslyn. "I'd buy candy, 'n' ice-cream, 'n' peanuts, 'n' popcorn."

"And a doctor," laughed Mercedes.

There was a pause, and seven pair of eyes turned expectantly toward Gloriana, who, perceiving the look, said shyly, "There are probably heaps of things I'd like to get for myself now and then, but I think the most of my two hundred would go to Granny Conover for taking care of me all those years. I'd like to see her have plenty of money to do as she pleased with before she dies."

"Wouldn't that be splendid?" cried the children, who were never tired of hearing the pitiful tale of Gloriana's life.

"Now, Tabitha," suggested Billiard. "Why, where is Tabitha?"

"Gone to put Janie to bed, I guess," said Toady, seeing that the youngest member of the family was also missing. "It's her nap time."

But in reality, Tabitha was far down the mountainside, speeding like a deer in pursuit of a tiny, white-clad figure toddling in and out among the sagebrush and greasewood toward a forbidden playground, where, half-hidden by rocks and rubbish, were several unprotected prospect holes, mysterious and alluring to the investigative baby eyes. Even as Tabitha came within calling distance of the child, Janie discovered that she was being pursued, and quickened her steps into a run, heedless of the path she was taking, until with a shrill cry of fright, she slipped over the brink of one of the very holes she had stolen away to visit, and disappeared from sight.

"O, God, don't let her be killed!" prayed the black-eyed girl, and her feet fairly flew over the uneven ground, till she, too, reached the edge of the deep excavation. But before she could discover the plight of the runaway, she felt the ground give way beneath her feet, and echoing Janie's cry of alarm, she, too, shot out of sight. Fortunately, however, little sand fell with her, and as by a miracle, she landed free and clear of the frightened, sobbing, but unhurt figure crouching in the opposite corner.

Scrambling to her feet, she seized the scared baby in her arms, exclaiming over and over again, "Janie, Janie, are you sure you aren't killed?" till at length she had soothed the child's fright and had coaxed her into laughing again. "Now, Miss Mischief," she cried, setting the baby down and beginning to investigate their prison, "we must find some way out of this place. 'Tisn't very deep, to be sure; but the sides seem pretty crumbly, so I don't dare to climb out. I reckon we'll have to shout. Help, help, help!"

They screamed themselves hoarse, but no one came to answer their call, and Janie began to wail dismally, for the minutes seemed like hours to her, and she was tired and cross. "Never mind, honey," Tabitha comforted. "If they don't find us around the house by supper time, they will know something has gone wrong and send General to find us. Now let's amuse ourselves for a while, and then we'll shout again. Here is a stick. See if you can dig a deeper hole than I can. Why, what's this?"

Stooping over to pick up a fragment of redwood bark at her feet, she uncovered a small bag, which rattled as she touched it; and as she untied the drawstring, a shower of glittering gold pieces fell into her lap.

"Pennies!" cried Janie, making a dive for a share of the shining coins.

"Yes, dear, gold pennies, but Janie mustn't touch," answered Tabitha, busily sorting the money into various piles according to its denomination. "It doesn't belong to us, and we must take it to the— Say, Janie McKittrick, what will you bet this isn't the money stolen from the bank Saturday night? Mr. Dawley said they got only a few hundred. Let's count it. One, two, three, four, five hundred dollars. Janie, that's just what we've found! The robbers didn't dare take it with them, and so hid it here, thinking it would be absolutely safe."

"Well, Tabitha Catt! Of all things! Look, girls, she's as calm and cool as if she had gone on a picnic, instead of tumbling into a prospect hole."

So intent had the two prisoners become in their find that neither had heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and as breathless Susie's voice rang out above their heads, both started guiltily.

"Why, how did you know where to look for us?" cried Tabitha, bouncing to her feet, and slipping the bag out of sight, lest the children see and ask questions.

"Well, when we couldn't find you about the house anywhere, Glory remembered that Janie had slipped off down the trail while we were talking, and so we decided that you must have chased her. Then Mercy happened to think of these holes. Janie is always possessed to play down here, and has run away three times before; so we came down to look, and here you are in the very first one," explained Susie.

"You hauled us out of the abandoned mine one day, and now we are going to fish you out of a prospect hole," exulted Billiard, much relieved to find the two girls unhurt, but unable to resist crowing a little over their mishap.

"How?" asked Tabitha, a frown of anxiety gathering in her forehead. "Don't get too near the edge there, or some of you may join us in our retreat. You must go for help. You can't get us out all alone."

"Mercy has gone for the assayer," began Inez.

"And here he is now," Billiard interrupted. "He has got a long board and a rope. Stand back, Irene, so you won't be in the way. There, now, Tabby, tie up the baby, and we'll lift her out first."

In a surprisingly short time, both girls were hoisted from the sultry pit and landed laughing gaily among their mates.

"Well," said the assayer, shaking his gray head in a puzzled fashion, "I don't understand how you kids work the stunt."

"What stunt?" they all inquired.

"Why, tumbling into every hole you come across and not getting hurt. You aren't hurt, are you?"

"No, indeed!"

"And Kitty finded a whole sack full of gold pennies down there, but her won't div Janie any," volunteered the baby quite unexpectedly.

"She—what?"

"Gold pennies!"

"What does she mean?"

The children lifted questioning eyes to Tabitha's crimson face, and even the assayer looked down at her curiously. She had not meant to let the children know about the money; at least, not until she had consulted older and wiser heads than theirs; but now that Janie had betrayed her secret, she displayed her find, and explained how it had come into her possession.

The assayer's eyes grew thoughtful, as he examined each coin minutely, and counted the treasure, to make sure that Tabitha's figures were right. "What shall you do with it?" he finally asked, as he dropped the last piece into the sack and returned it to Tabitha.

"Take it to the bank. I thought it might be part of the money the robbers got."

He glanced at her quickly, keenly; then answered, "That's the thing to do, all right, and I don't believe your surmise is far off, either. But see here, children, don't you dare lisp a word to a single soul about this money until we know for certain whose it is."

"We won't," hastily promised the wondering, round-eyed flock, for they stood much in awe of the silent, almost taciturn man who worked wonders with the rock which the miners brought him; and the little company set out for home, leaving Tabitha and the assayer to carry the precious find over to the bank.

"Do you know," said Gloriana, as the black-eyed girl finished relating the afternoon's happenings to her, "I half believe that man snooping around the pesthouse is the robber."

"What man?" demanded the startled Tabitha.

"Well, I don't know who he is, but it is someone I've never seen here in town. He was there this morning, but I didn't think much about it then. We were so excited over the robbery. But this afternoon while the assayer was dragging you out of the prospect hole, and I was watching through your field glasses, I happened to turn them in the direction of the pesthouse, and there he was again, humped up on the doorsill, watching through glasses of his own. When you started off toward town, he hustled into the house and shut the door. Now, it seems to me no one would stay in a pesthouse unless he was hiding from someone."

"No one ever had smallpox there."

"Then why does everyone avoid it so?"

"I don't know. The name, I reckon. It was built for a pesthouse, but the doctors decided the patient didn't have smallpox after all, so the building has never been used."

"Then perhaps he knows there is nothing to be afraid of in the house."

"That may be, of course. Is he there yet?"

"Yes, I think he is. I've kept a close lookout ever since I discovered him, and I haven't seen him leave."

Tabitha seemed lost in thought a moment, then turned an eager face toward her companion. "Gloriana, the reward!"

"Could we?"

"Can't tell till we try!"

"But how——"

"There are only two small windows in the house,—funny, isn't it, when air is so necessary in case of sickness,—he can't get out of them. So all we have to do is guard the door."

"But how shall we get him to the—police?"

"Sheriff? I hadn't thought of that part. We couldn't tie him up and march him to jail,—we aren't strong enough, just us girls. We'll have to make sure he is there, lock him in, and then while one of us guards the door, the other must go for help."

Gloriana shuddered. She hoped it would not fall to her lot to guard the door, and yet she could not bear to think of Tabitha's staying there alone with only a flimsy structure between her and a desperate character.

"I—we—had we better try it alone?" she asked timidly. "Wouldn't it be wiser to tell the assayer and get him to help?"

"The more people there are connected with his capture, the smaller our share of the reward will be. We can do it all right."

Tabitha's daring swept away her objections. "That's so," she answered. "Well, we better not wait any longer then, or perhaps he will get away yet."

"I'm ready," Tabitha replied promptly, and with quaking hearts but determined steps the two set out, armed with a stout stick and the rusty old pistol which Gloriana had used the night the boys had played burglar.

"What is that broom handle for?" questioned the red-haired girl, wondering if she would be expected to crack the desperado over the head with it.

"To lock the door with."

"Lock the door?" Could Tabitha have gone suddenly crazy?

"Yes. It's the only way we can fasten him in. The door has an iron handle on the outside, instead of a knob, you see."

"Oh!"

"Is that the man?" The door of the pesthouse had opened abruptly and a short, portly man roughly dressed, unshaved and florid of complexion, appeared on the threshold a moment, eyed the approaching girls indifferently, glanced searchingly toward town, and again vanished within, closing the door behind him. Gloriana's heart seemed to stop beating, then pounded so loudly that it sounded to her like the pulsing of the engines in the Silver Legion Mine. "Yes," she gasped.

"Then we've got him!" Scared but exultant, Tabitha leaped to the door, thrust her stick through the handle, and cocked her revolver, just as the man, hearing the noise outside, grasped the knob and tried to open the door.

"What the deuce!" they heard him exclaim, and then he wrenched again. "Who's out there, and what do you want?" he bellowed in rage, when the door refused to budge.

"You're our prisoner," Tabitha answered boldly, though trembling like a leaf with nervous dread; "and you might just as well keep quiet as to make a fuss. Glory, hurry for the sheriff, the assayer—anyone! He's desperate!"

And indeed he sounded desperate as he kicked and banged the door, shouted and swore, tearing about his small prison like a madman, and breathing threats of vengeance against his jailer, who stood pale but undaunted in front of the door, with a cocked revolver clinched tightly in both hands, waiting anxiously for the return of Gloriana with help from town, and thanking her lucky stars that neither of the small windows was on the door side of the house.

Then suddenly the tumult ceased within, and terrified Tabitha began to take courage again. "He has decided to behave himself at last," she thought. "It's the only sensible thing to do, for he can't get away from here now without being caught. There comes Glory at last, but oh, gracious! look at the crowd following her. Half the town is out."

Just then a subdued grunt from around the corner of the house caught her attention, and beckoning wildly to the approaching throng, she crept cautiously forward to investigate, but paused again, paralyzed at the sight which met her eyes. The portly prisoner had attempted to escape by means of one of the small windows, and now hung suspended by the middle over the sill, his hands clawing the air helplessly inside, and his heels waving frantically without. At another time, Tabitha, would have shouted with laughter at the ridiculous figure he cut, but now her only thought was to prevent his escaping, and flinging aside her pistol, she plunged toward the body seesawing through the air, and clutched the feet with a determined grip, while the helpless victim protested in emphatic language.

Thus the crowd found them and went wild with delight at the spectacle, much to the discomfiture of both captor and captive, and when at length the florid prisoner was freed from his uncomfortable position, his face was purple with rage and exertion. "What is the meaning of this outrage?" he exploded as soon as he could find sufficient breath to voice his indignation. "Who put you up to such a trick as that, you young minx? Do you know who I am?"

"Why, Jerry Weller!" exclaimed an astonished voice from the interested throng of onlookers. "What are you doing here?"

"I bought this old shack and was to have had it moved onto my claims to-day, if the movers had showed up," exclaimed the irate man, his voice thick with anger. "But along come these jades and fasten me in——"

"We thought he was the bank robber," Tabitha murmured faintly, sick at heart over the mistake. "He was acting so—so suspiciously."

"Bank robber!" echoed the speaker from the crowd. "Why, Jeremiah Weller is owner of the biggest placer mines in the country. He made a fortune in Alaska. He's a millionaire! Bank robber! Ha—ha! That's rich!"

The crowd roared appreciatively, but the victim of the mistake quite unexpectedly lost his glowering look, and gruffly declared, "Well, you needn't laugh at her. She's pluck to the backbone. Show me another girl who would have undertook to corral a bank robber as she did. I don't wonder she thought that was my occupation. I certainly look rough enough—" Suddenly his roving eyes fell upon the timid, shrinking Gloriana, so depressed at the way matters had turned out that she could scarcely keep back the scalding tears. If it had not been for her, Tabitha would never have gone on such a wild-goose chase. Why hadn't she kept her suspicions to herself?

"What's your name?" demanded the stranger so abruptly that he seemed positively rude.

"Gloriana Holliday," she managed to articulate.

"Did you ever have an Uncle Jerry?"

"If I did, he never came near us that I can remember," she candidly replied.

The purple of his face deepened. "That's right, too," he muttered. "But your mother ran away to get married."

"And her folks told her never to let them see her face again," supplemented Gloriana bitterly.

"Was her name Weller at one time? But of course it was. There couldn't be two people on earth look as much alike as she and you unless they were mother and daughter; and besides, she married a Holliday,—Jack Holliday."

Gloriana nodded.

"Then, my girl, I'm your Uncle Jerry, and if you didn't catch your bank robber, you made a pretty good haul anyway. Your mother—she—she's—dead, isn't she? And your father? You're an orphan——"

"She's not any longer!" Tabitha broke in savagely. "We've adopted her and she's my sister."

"Oh! Well, that simplifies matters, too, for I'm a bachelor and have no home to offer, but— Say, I want to talk with you. Where's your adopted father? Not in town now? Well, isn't there some place we can go where we won't be gawked at by all these hoodlums? Bring your black-haired sister,—my jailer. I certainly do admire pluck."

At this broad hint, the curious crowd reluctantly withdrew, and left the trio alone at the pesthouse threshold. Standing there bare-headed with the waning sunlight glinting through the heavy, red locks, Gloriana told what she could remember of the pitiful struggle of her parents, their deaths, and her unhappy lot until the scholarship at Ivy Hall had opened the way to better things.

So affected was the bluff stranger by the sad tale that he made no effort to check the tears which filled his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. "Well, the past is passed," he said when the story was done, "and we can't do anything now to change it. I've been downright sorry at the way we treated your mother, but she effaced herself pretty well. We never got a trace of her whereabouts, though years afterwards we heard that she was dead. We never knew there was a child, but never mind, you shall not want again as long as I live. Being a rover and unmarried, I have no home to offer, as I said before; so I am glad to find you settled with such good friends. But I've got all kinds of money, and insist upon paying for your education from now on. Here's a check for pin money."

Drawing a check-book from his pocket, he rapidly scribbled a few lines, tore out the slip and handed it to Gloriana. Mechanically she took it, and her gray eyes grew round with wonder as she read. "One hundred dollars! Oh, you must have made a mistake, Mr.——"

"Uncle Jerry," he corrected her.

"Uncle Jerry," she dutifully repeated.

"Not a bit of it! And what's more, there will be one of those ready for you every quarter."

"Oh, that's too much!" she protested. "Whatever would a girl do with four hundred dollars a year spending money?" The sum appalled her, and well it might, for never before had she possessed more than five dollars at one time.

He laughed at her dismay. "Why, I often spend that much in a day. You can lay in a stock of jimcracks like the other girls have. You'll find plenty of ways to dispose of every cent, I know."

"Maybe," she half whispered. "You see, I never had so much as a dollar all my own that I can remember until I came to live with Tabitha, but perhaps when I get used to knowing it's really mine and—genuine, I'll find ways to spend it. I—I thank you. It's nice to have an Uncle Jerry."

"It's nice to have a Niece Gloriana, too," he answered gruffly, clearing his throat with much gusto; and as there seemed to be nothing further to say, the trio turned from the lonely pesthouse, and silently climbed the hill toward town.



CHAPTER XIII

THE ROBBERS AND THE HAUNTED HOUSE

"Billiard, did you ever see a ghost?"

It was almost a week since the bank robbery had occurred, and still no clue as to the identity of the robbers had been found, although posses were still searching the country, determined to catch them if such a thing were possible. But the excitement of the event had already died down in the youthful minds of Silver Bow, and other topics of conversation absorbed their attention.

"Naw," answered Billiard contemptuously, without looking up from the stick he was whittling. "What's eating you, Toady? There ain't any ghosts, and you know it."

"What about that haunted house in the east end of town?"

"'Tain't haunted."

"Susie says it is."

"And Tabitha has lived alone near it for six or seven years and she has never seen anything stirring there."

"But ghosts walk only at midnight. She's never been there at night."

"Aw, you softy——"

"Susie says the Gates boy declares he saw a ghost in the graveyard one night."

"Well, that's different. I don't blame a ghost for walking there."

"Why, Billiard McKittrick, what do you mean?"

"Did you ever see a lonesomer place on earth than the Silver Bow graveyard?" demanded Billiard. "Why, it's the worst looking cemetery in the country, I believe,—just heaps of rocks and wooden sticks to show where folks are buried. Tabitha says they blast out the graves with dynamite, six at a time, and fill them up with people as fast as they die. Would you rest easy if you were planted in that style? Wouldn't your ghost want to get out and walk?"

"Billiard McKittrick!" Toady looked positively shocked. Then after a moment, as the older boy made no reply, the younger one continued thoughtfully, "Maybe that's what is the matter with the ghost in the haunted house."

"Oh, pshaw, Toady, I tell you there ain't such a thing as a ghost!"

"I'll stump you to go down to the haunted house some time and find out."

"All right, come along!"

"Not during daylight. It must be after dark. Midnight is the best time, Susie says."

"Bother Susie! Why don't you get her to go with you?"

"You are afraid to go!" jeered Toady.

"Am not!" retorted Billiard angrily.

"Then why don't you take my dare?"

"It's all tommy-rot," insisted Billiard, with a fine show of scorn.

"'Fraid cat!"

"Oh, I'll take you up," cried the other, stung into recklessness by Toady's taunts. "We'll go to-night."

"To-night?" stammered Toady, much abashed at his brother's sudden acceptance of the dare.

"Yes, to-night!"

"What's your hurry?"

"Who's the 'fraid cat now?" taunted Billiard.

"Not me! To-night's the time. We'll set the alarm-clock for half-past ten."

"Suppose it wakes the rest of the bunch?"

"They'll think it's a mistake, and in a few minutes will be asleep again, and we can steal outside without their hearing us at all."

So it was decided, and though each boy, deep down in his heart, hoped that the other would back out before the hour set, both resolved not to show the white feather, and as the alarm-clock pealed forth its summons in the silence of the night, two sleepy lads crept stealthily out of bed, drew on their clothes, and without exchanging a word, started for the haunted house at the other end of town.

Never, it seemed to the quaking boys, had the desert night seemed so black. The stars were shining, to be sure, but the very heavens seemed further away, and the silence was appalling. Nervous, excited, dreading the ordeal, each boy waited for the other to propose that they give up their wild-goose chase; but neither was willing to acknowledge his cowardice first, so they stumbled fearfully on, clutching each other's hands to keep from falling, they told themselves, but really to feel the nearness of another human being.

At length, however, they reached the old, abandoned shack, where they were to keep their ghostly vigil, and with bated breath they opened the sagging door and crept trembling over the threshold into the black shadows of the interior. Fear held them tongue-tied, and they crouched upon the dusty floor as close to the door as they could get. The silence was intense, terrifying.

Then the stillness was sharply broken by a hoarse whisper, "What was that, Bill?"

Billiard, thinking Toady had spoken to him, was about to reply when a second voice answered, "Only the wind, I reckon. Shut up."

"But it sounded like someone opened the door."

"You're as bad as an old woman with the fidgets," said the second voice crossly. "Go to sleep, can't you? At least, let me sleep. I tell you we're safe enough. The fools will never think of looking for us here. This is a haunted house and no one ever comes here. When they get tired of scouring the desert and give up hunting for us, we'll light out, but until then we've got to lie low; and we might as well spend our time snoozing as to be worrying all the while."

"The bank robbers!" thought each boy to himself. What should they do? It would be impossible for two small boys to capture such desperadoes in the dead of night, especially as neither lad was armed, they argued. Their only course was to steal noiselessly away, rouse the sheriff, bring back a posse and surprise the men in hiding.

With one impulse, the terrified boys clasped hands, slipped cautiously out of the house, hardly daring to breathe for fear of being heard, and raced off along the road toward the sleeping town with all the speed they could muster. Once they fancied they heard a voice call to them, but this only increased their head-long flight. Their feet seemed fairly to skim over the ground, and when they reached the main street of the town they were breathless, exhausted and frightened almost past speaking.

"Where—does—the sheriff—live?" panted Billiard, as they tore down the last steep slope.

"Dunno," gasped Toady.

"Then how'll we find him?"

"Drug-store."

"It's shut."

"Ring the night bell."

And ring they did, sending peal after peal echoing through the silent building until the sleepy proprietor, dishevelled and wrathy, stumbled through the doorway, and demanded fiercely, "What the deuce is wanted?"

"The robbers—" half sobbed the boys.

"Well, they ain't here," snarled the angry druggist, not catching the meaning of their words. "Now you hike for home and the next time you want to play a practical joke——"

"Oh, this isn't a joke!" cried Toady imploringly. "We've found the sure 'nough robbers, but——"

"We aren't big enough to capture them," finished Billiard.

"Aw, come off!" said the man, beginning to see from the boys' demeanor that something was really wrong. "You are having a bad dream. How do you happen to be wandering around town this time of night?"

"We dared each other to visit the haunted house to see if there was a really ghost, like Susie said."

"And you found one, did you?" the druggist laughed sarcastically.

"Oh, this ain't a ghost. It's burglars, truly! They talked and we heard what they said," cried Toady with convincing earnestness.

"And what did they say?" persisted the druggist, though in a different tone of voice.

Briefly they recounted their adventure in the vacant house, and as the man listened he took down the telephone, said a few words which the boys could not hear, and hung up the receiver again. Almost immediately there was a sound of footsteps without, and an armed citizen of Silver Bow appeared in the doorway, then another, and another, until a score or more had gathered just outside the building. There was a hasty consultation one with another, then the boys were bidden to repeat the story they had told the druggist, and after the men had heard the meagre details, the posse separated, vanishing one by one in the blackness. But instinctively the boys knew that they would attempt to surround the haunted house, and taking its occupants by surprise, would compel them to surrender.

They wanted to remain at the drug-store until the capture was effected, but the keeper ordered them home to bed, and they reluctantly obeyed, listening every step of the way for the sound of shots. But nothing occurred to mar the stillness of the night, and they wondered if the desperadoes had after all escaped. So anxious were they, and so nervous over their unusual experience that it seemed as if sleep would never come to close their eyes, as they lay once more in their bed at the Eagles' Nest; and they were astonished to find themselves waking up the next morning at the sound of someone knocking at their door.

"Who is it?" called Billiard, vaguely wondering if he could have dreamed all that had transpired during the past twelve hours.

"Susie," answered a voice from the hall. "The sheriff wants to see you."

"The sheriff?"

"Yes. Hurry up! The bank robbers have been caught and you have to go to the justice of the peace's office."

"Then it's really so," sighed Billiard in relief.

"Course it is!" retorted Toady, now thoroughly awake. "But what do you s'pose the sheriff wants us for?"

"Dunno. Quickest way to find out is to go down and see."

Susie and the twins were waiting for them when they emerged from their room, and ecstatically announced, "We're all going, too. They want you to be witnesses, and Tabitha to take notes. No one else in town writes shorthand."

"But what is it all about?" demanded Billiard. "Ain't the robbers in jail?"

"We have no real jail here," explained Tabitha, who chanced to overhear his question. "When a man does anything that he has to go to prison for, they take him to the county seat. This court only tries to prove whether or not there is evidence enough to hold him for trial by the county. Hurry up, they are waiting for us. And children, remember, you must come straight back here after you take a look at the prisoners. Queer how youngsters want to see such things, isn't it? Perhaps it will be quite a while before I can get back, but I know I can trust you to keep out of mischief and mind Mercedes. Oh, Glory, I've got nervous chills already about taking that dictation. The lawyer who is to defend the robbers can talk like lightning."

"Fudge!" replied Gloriana reassuringly. "You won't have any trouble at all, I know. They will take into consideration the fact that you have no experience outside of school. Is this the place? What a funny looking court! Does he live here, too? The justice of peace, I mean."

"Why, Tabitha!" interrupted Irene, clutching the older girl by the arm. "Look there! That's our candy man,—the tallest one—and they've got him hand-cuffed. Does— Is he the man they say robbed the bank? I don't believe he ever did it!"

"Hush!" warned Inez, giving her twin a vicious dig in the ribs. But the damage was already done.

"What do you mean?" demanded Tabitha, pausing on the threshold of the tiny, dirty room that served as courthouse for the town of Silver Bow.

"Yes, what do you mean?" asked one of the lawyers, who had chanced to overhear the remark.

"He made candy for us the day you went to the river and left us at home," explained Irene, ignoring the frowns of her partners in guilt.

"Tell us all about it."

Bit by bit the story came out, and to Irene's great grief it forged another link in the chain of evidence already so strong against the cheery stranger. "I don't want him to go to jail," she sobbed. "He's an awfully nice man."

"But, dear, he is a thief," Tabitha told her. "He ought to go to jail."

"If they'd only let him loose this time, I'm sure he would never steal again," the child staunchly maintained. But in spite of her faith in him, the "candy man," as the children continued to call him, was sent to the county seat for trial, convicted, and sentenced to a long term in prison.

"He shouldn't have stolen if he didn't want to go to prison," asserted Billiard virtuously. "If he hadn't robbed the bank, he never would have had to hide in the haunted house and we wouldn't have found them there."

"But as 'tis," added Toady, "they paid Billiard and me each fifty dollars for finding them. I mean the town paid us."

"Though you didn't discover whether there are any ghosts or not," said Susie much disappointed.

"Who cares?" retorted the boys, drawing out their little hoard of gold pieces and gloating over them. "I wish there were more haunted houses if they'd all pay us as well as this one did. Now, what shall we do with our money?"



CHAPTER XIV

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS

"Only two weeks more of vacation," sighed Tabitha, sinking wearily into the hammock one August afternoon, and looking longingly away to the west where the train was just puffing into view. "I never dreamed we should be here all summer when I offered to take care of the kidlets for Mrs. McKittrick."

"Are you sorry?" asked Gloriana, glancing up from her sewing in surprise at the tone of Tabitha's voice.

"No, oh, no!" she answered hastily, for fear her companion would think she was complaining. "I don't regret staying here at all, for that was the only way Mr. McKittrick could get well; but still—I should have enjoyed getting a peek at the ocean again, and having a good time all around, like we'd surely have had with Myra."

"Yes, that would have been lovely," sighed Gloriana, who could not help feeling sorry that their vacation had not turned out as they had planned, although she admired Tabitha more than ever because of the unselfishness which had prompted her to shoulder such a responsibility in the first place.

"You see, I never have spent the summer at the seashore," Tabitha continued; "nor anywhere else, for that matter, except here in Silver Bow, since we came here to live; and I had planned so much on Myra's invitation. She is such a whirlwind for fun."

"It's too bad Miss Davis didn't let us know any sooner that she didn't intend to come back to the desert till fall. Perhaps we could have found someone else—"

"I'm afraid not. It's awfully hard to get anyone dependable away out here. Hired help is simply out of the question. They think Silver Bow is beyond the bounds of civilization, I reckon."

"I don't blame them," began Gloriana impetuously; then blushed furiously, and stammered, "Oh, what did I say? What will you think of me? I didn't mean—"

"Yes, you did mean it," laughed her companion. "And I don't blame you. I used to feel the same way myself."

"And did you really get over it?" Gloriana eagerly asked. "Do you truly like this—this desolate place now?"

"I love Silver Bow," she answered slowly, yet with emphasis. "I sometimes wonder what kind of a girl I would have been if we had stayed on at Dover or Ferndale, where there was no Carrie. Then there would have been no Ivy Hall, either, I suppose."

"And no me," half whispered the red-haired girl. "Then I should be thankful for the desert, too; because if it hadn't been for you, I never should have been adopted by the best people in the whole wide world, nor found an Uncle Jerry who really belongs to me. And anyway, there will be other summers, and the ocean will keep."

"No, it won't, either!" thrilled a bubbling voice behind them, and a red-faced, perspiring, disheveled figure swept around the corner of the house and plumped itself down in the hammock beside Tabitha whom she proceeded to hug rapturously.

"Myra!" gasped the black-haired girl, trying to return the embrace, but finding herself held fast by a pair of strong, sinewy arms.

"Myra!" echoed Gloriana, dropping her sewing and staring with fascinated eyes at the newcomer, who promptly dragged the lame girl from her chair into the already overloaded hammock and hugged her vigorously. "Where did you come from and how did you get here?"

"On the train," Myra paused long enough to pant, "and as to finding you,—haven't you described and sketched the Eagles' Nest often enough in your letters for me to know it when I saw it? I never even had to ask directions how to find the trail. Now just rustle your things together and we'll catch that train back to Los Angeles this afternoon. It leaves at three o'clock, doesn't it? I simply had to come after you, but it's too beastly hot to stay here a minute longer than necessary."

"But Myra, the children!" cried the two maids, looking oh! so eager at the mere thought of the seashore, but determined to turn their backs on temptation at once.

"Hark ye!" answered Myra in tragic tones. "What sound doth smite your ears? Or be you deef?" Her abrupt change of tone and manner was too comical to be resisted, but her upraised hand checked the mirth of the other two, and they dutifully cocked their heads on one side and listened intently.

"The youngsters at play," both replied in the same breath.

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Then I guess you're deef."

At that moment sturdy Rosslyn flew around the corner of the cottage, and throwing himself into Tabitha's lap shrieked out, "Kitty, Kitty, mamma's come, but papa must stay down there till it gets cooler."

"What!" whispered Tabitha, her face paling. "It can't be! Is she truly?"

Myra nodded solemnly.

"What wonderful things are happening—"

There was an ominous crack, the hammock rope snapped in two, and the quartette found themselves a tangled, huddled heap of arms and legs upon the piazza floor.

"Indeed, and I see nothing wonderful about that," spluttered Myra, who had just opened her lips to speak, when their downfall came, and in consequence she had shut her sharp teeth together on her tongue.

Gloriana scrambled to her feet, then laughed. She could not help it, for long-limbed Myra did look so funny, sprawled on the floor like a huge spider; and amazement was written so large upon Tabitha's face that sterner hearts than hers would have made merry at the picture which they presented. Rosslyn's wail of grief checked her mirth, however, and she came hastily to his rescue, but his mother had heard the outcry, and now appeared on the scene with the remainder of her brood clinging to her skirts, and Billiard and Toady following close at their heels.

"Well, for the land sakes!" she ejaculated, holding up her hands in surprise and amusement. "What a sight! Are any of you hurt? That's good! Now, girls, perhaps it will seem rude and ungrateful to rush you off this way, but I had orders to see that you caught the train back to Los Angeles this afternoon. So I reckon you will have to move lively, with your packing and all."

"Who gave you such orders?" demanded Tabitha in bewilderment, rubbing her eyes to make sure she was not dreaming.

"Your father. I met him in the city just as I was about to board the train for Silver Bow."

"But—but—"

"No 'buts' about it," put in Myra, still sucking her injured tongue. "I accidentally ran up against Mrs. McKittrick in Los Angeles, knew her at once because Mercy looks so much like her, discovered that she was planning to come back here before school opened; so I just attached myself to her and came along—"

"Aha!" crowed Gloriana jubilantly. "Then all that tale about finding the Eagles' Nest without help was a—fib!"

Myra's face crimsoned and her tell-tale eyes dropped, then lifted again, twinkling like twin stars. "Huh!" she giggled, "our detective again! Say, are you going to catch that train at three o'clock? If so, just take wings to your feet and fly for home. Mrs. McKittrick can hear all about everything when you get back. The children are alive and well, and that's the main point. I told her everything you had written me and—"

"Myra Haskell!"

"Well, she was on her way home and 'twas time she knew." She glanced across at Mrs. McKittrick, who smiled back through her tears. "And she says you are bricks. Also I told the station agent to send up his rig for your trunks, and if you don't make haste pretty lively, he'll be there before we are. I suppose your trunks are at your own house? That's where I told him to call. Now sling out the duds you've got here, and I'll pack them while you are getting slicked up. No, Mrs. McKittrick, I don't want another bite to eat, and it's evident from the looks of the house that either these folks don't get dinner, or else they have already eaten it."

"We've had it," volunteered Irene, "but it wasn't very good."

"Irene McKittrick!" gasped her mother.

"She is right," laughed Tabitha. "To-day was scrap dinner. We have it once a week to get rid of all the odds and ends. However, it isn't very popular. No, thanks, we won't need a lunch put up for us. If we get hungry before we reach Los Angeles, we'll patronize the diner. Sorry we can't stop to tell you all the news, but if Dad said we must go back on this train, I suppose we must. Where are you staying, Myra? Avalon? Catalina Island?"

"The very same."

Tabitha clasped her hands together and drew a deep breath. "How perfectly splendid!"

"I guess I'm dreaming," murmured Gloriana, half aloud, pinching herself vigorously to make sure she was really awake. "Do you get there by boat?"

"Of course, goosie! Did you think we took an airship? Hurry up, slowpokes!"

Laughing and chattering gleefully, the trio gathered up their possessions, made a hurried visit to the Catt cottage, packed their trunks, and were at the station long before the train rumbled its way back to the great city by the sea.

"We are going to have the grandest kind of a time," Myra told them. "All sorts of high jinks. We've got a dandy site for our camp,—a dozen tents—"

"A dozen!" cried Tabitha in a panic. "Why, who are with you? I thought it was just your family."

"You knew Gwynne was there?"

"Yes, but she wouldn't occupy a dozen tents. I'm scared!"

"You needn't be," mocked Myra soothingly. "I'll bet you will vote it the jolliest bunch you ever got mixed up with."

"Do I know any of them?"

"Do you consider yourself acquainted with Gwynne and me?"

"Of course. I meant any of the others."

"Well," Myra spoke dubiously, "if you don't, I think you will get acquainted easily." And with that remark she adroitly turned the conversation and managed to avoid that subject during the rest of their journey.

When the train drew into the dingy little depot the next morning, and the trio gathered up their wraps preparatory to alighting, Tabitha was suddenly heard to ejaculate, "Why, there is Dad! And he's talking with—Miss Pomeroy, as sure as I'm alive! Myra Haskell, is Miss Pomeroy occupying one of those twelve tents?"

Myra glanced hastily through the iron gates, saw that Tabitha was right, and demurely nodded her head.

"Then I can imagine who the others are."

"Bet you can't! At least, not all."

"Bet I can!"

"Who, then, smarty?"

"Grace Tilton, Bessie Jorris, Jessie Wayne, Julia, Chrystie—is Chrystie there?"

"Wait and find out," teased Myra.

"Possibly Madeline and Vera,—in fact, all our bunch."

Myra merely laughed, and as they were now spied by Mr. Catt and his companion, there was no further opportunity for discussion; for, after a hasty greeting all around, the man seized all the grips he could manage, and made for the street, saying briskly, "We must hurry. The boat goes at ten, and it is quite a ride to San Pedro."

"I hope," panted Tabitha, trotting along at the rear of the procession, tugging a heavy suit-case, "that you don't have your fun in such a hurry."

"What do you mean?" Myra demanded.

"Well, it's been nothing but hustle since we started out yesterday afternoon, and I was just wondering if that's the atmosphere of your camp, too."

"Perhaps you will think so," laughed Myra; "for there certainly are few idle minutes with us."

"How long has the bunch been at Avalon? Surely not all summer, or you never could have kept it secret for such a while."

"No," Myra acknowledged, "only—but there, not another question till we reach Catalina. Then you can ask all you want. I've said too much already. First thing I know, you will guess the rest of our surprise." And the girl resolutely closed her lips.

"Rest of the surprise," mused Tabitha to herself, when further questions failed to bring forth any more information, and Myra was devoting her attention to quiet Gloriana. "I wonder what it can be. Seems as if there had been about all the surprises one human being could expect in twenty-four hours. Who would ever imagine that Dad would go on a jaunt like this? Isn't it great to be alive in this day and age?"

She fell to dreaming over the many changes that had come to pass in her life during one short year, and was only roused from her revery by Myra's gripping her shoulder and shouting in her ear, "The boat is whistling its warning now. Not a minute to spare. Run, Kit, run!" And again the little company tore frantically down the street toward the dock where the Cabrillo was tugging at her anchor, waiting for the signal to steam away to the Enchanted Isle on her daily voyage.

It was the first time either Tabitha or Gloriana had been on the ocean; and with rapturous hearts they drank in every detail of their brief trip, counted the flying fish that darted out of the water on either side of them, watched the foam dashing high against the bow of the vessel, wondered at the long ribbon of silent water which the ship left in its wake, and were sorry when suddenly Myra called, "There's the island. We are almost there. Now for the fun! There's a bride and groom on board."

"How do you know?"

"Didn't you hear the whistle blow?"

"Sure, but I supposed it was to tell the islanders that we were coming. Doesn't it always whistle?"

"Yes, but not like it did just now. That's the way they have of letting the folks at Avalon know when there is a recently married couple on board. Then the men are ready and waiting at the dock with a wheelbarrow."

"A wheelbarrow! What on earth do they want of a wheelbarrow?" demanded both girls at once.

"Just for fun. They cart the groom all around the island in it and make a fearful racket. Regular chivari."

"How mean!" cried Gloriana compassionately.

"Oh, it's fun," Myra declared. "They like it. I believe an Avalon citizen who didn't get treated that way would feel insulted, really. Here we are at the landing, and there is the wheelbarrow brigade. It's Murphy, the ice-man, who got married this time. See, he's as proud as a peacock at the prospect."

"Yes, but look at the poor little bride," said Gloriana indignantly. "She is scared stiff."

"Bet she's game," replied Myra, after a quick scrutiny of the little, shrinking woman, clinging to the arm of the big, burly Irishman, as they stepped briskly down the gangplank.

"Do they put her in the wheelbarrow, too?" cried Tabitha in amazement.

"Oh, dear, no——"

"They will this one," said the bride with startling suddenness, having chanced to overhear both question and answer. "If they cart my Pat around town in that kind of a rig, they cart me, too." And to the delight and amusement of the crowd gathered to greet the Cabrillo's passengers, the little lady tucked herself in the barrow beside her husband and was trundled away by the surprised citizens, who had never wheeled just such a cargo before.

"'Here comes the bride'," a voice began to sing; the crowd took it up, and amid a shower of bright-colored confetti, the plucky bride disappeared down the street still seated beside her smiling Pat.

So intent was Tabitha in watching the queer procession that she had not noticed the quiet approach of a bevy of happy-faced girls; but now, as she turned toward Myra with the remark, "She's clear grit. I'd choose a wife like that if I were a man," she found the laughing eyes of Grace Tilton staring at her, and before she could find her tongue to voice her surprise, Gwynne's regal head bobbed through the crowd toward her. Jessie and Julia, Vera and Kate, all her particular friends at Ivy Hall, seemed to spring up around her, and although half expecting to find them there, she stood transfixed with amazement, silently regarding them one by one, while they in silence stared back at her. Then the circle parted, and among the familiar faces of her schoolmates appeared another, which dimpled and smiled and nodded engagingly, and Tabitha awoke with a start.

"Carrie Carson!" she cried, and ran straight into the outstretched arms of the golden-haired girl.

"Kitty, my puss!" whispered Carrie, cuddling the black head dropped on her shoulder; and the other girls thoughtfully turned away to watch the sea-gulls careening about the mastheads of the big Cabrillo.

But after a moment, that sweet, familiar voice spoke again, and turning back, the Ivy Hall girls saw Carrie stretching out her hands to timid Gloriana, as she said, "So this is my other sister, my Gloriana! It seems as if I had always known you. We are going to have great times at Ivy Hall this year. Come on, girls, the glass bottom boat is to take us to the Marine Gardens right after dinner, and we'll have to hurry, or be late."

Myra turned to Tabitha with a comical grimace, and said, "What did I tell you? Hurry's the word."

Then a babel of voices broke loose, all laughing and talking at once, and in triumph Tabitha and Gloriana were escorted to Ivy Hall Camp.



CHAPTER XV

MYRA'S CLIMAX

"Well, vacation is over, and we had just begun having a good time," sighed Tabitha mournfully, drawing back the curtains and peering out of the window that September morning into the gray fog of early dawn. "It doesn't seem possible that we are back in Los Angeles again. I 'most wish we had stayed at Catalina for this last day."

The Catalina campers, after a delightful two weeks' outing on the Island, had returned to mainland the day before; but as Ivy Hall had not yet opened its doors to its pupils, and most of the girls lived in neighboring towns, Myra Haskell had invited them to spend the night with her at her aunt's house. The aunt, Mrs. Cummings, was herself away on a brief vacation, but had given her harum-scarum niece permission to take possession of her pretty bungalow for the two nights the party would be in Los Angeles before school commenced. So, as the gray day dawned, it found a dozen mummy-like figures stretched about the floor of the great living-room, wrapped in blankets and quilts, and snoring blissfully.

This was the audience which Tabitha addressed, but she did not realize that she had spoken her thoughts aloud, and was startled when Myra, without opening her eyes, grunted, "Huh! You'll sing another tune before night. This is to be the gala day of your life. You will never forget it. When Dad starts out to do a thing, he never stops half way. The only trouble is to get him started."

"I didn't mean to grumble, truly," cried Tabitha, dismayed at having had her ungracious complaint overheard by her young hostess. "It is just grand of your family to invite all of us out to your ranch for the day, but I believe it's going to rain. It certainly looks like it. You could cut the fog with a knife."

"Whist! my young friend," murmured Gwynne, wakened from her slumbers by the sound of voices in the room. "Don't be so pessimistic. Don't you know it never rains in California? At least not in the summer time." For from the opposite corner of the room someone had sleepily murmured, "What about the ostriches?" and the whole company laughed reminiscently, recalling that Thanksgiving night when the storm had frightened the ostriches at the Park until they broke loose and created a panic among the returning theatre-goers.

"Who said rain?" demanded Grace, lifting a tousled head from the pillow to survey the hilarious group scattered about the floor of the spacious room.

"Go back to sleep,—you dreamed it!" teased Bessie, who had begun to slip on her clothes. "'Twas snow we were talking about. Feels like it, anyway."

"It is pretty chilly," admitted Tabitha, shivering under the thin folds of her borrowed dressing-gown, as she turned away from the window and prepared to follow Bessie's example. "Wake up, thou sluggards, 'tis time you were dressed. Remember we have a long and arduous day ahead of us."

"Kitty must be tired," said Julia in mock sympathy, crawling out of her warm nest and jerking the blanket off her nearest neighbor with ruthless hand. "Is that it, Kitty? First you want it to rain, and then when you can't make it do that, you begin to moan about the length of the day before us."

"All wrong," Vera spoke up suddenly. "She is merely thinking of that dear, cross-eyed boatman at Avalon. You know he promised to give us a free ride to the Marine Gardens this morning, and here we all came away and dragged Tabitha with us. Shame on us! What could we be thinking about!"

Tabitha wisely joined in the laugh which followed this sally, and sent a pillow flying after her tormentor, who had made a wild dash for the hall. "No, sir, I'm not bemoaning my fate," she vigorously denied, with her mouth full of pins. "I know we shall have a splendid time at the ranch. Only it seems as if vacation had only just begun, instead of being nearly ended; and the day looks so cloudy and gray that it doesn't seem like a fitting climax for our lovely two weeks at Catalina."

"It is too bad that you got cheated out of all the fun this summer," Myra sympathized heartily. "But just you wait until the day is done before you say it is not a fitting climax— Gracious Caesar! Here's one of the autos already! Surely they can't be coming so soon! What time is it, anyway?"

"Half-past six," Gloriana answered, glancing at an open watch that lay on the library table.

"Half-past nothing!" cried Vera, tumbling hastily into the room with her eyes as big as saucers. "It is almost eight o'clock!"

"You are joking!" cried the rest of the group in wild alarm.

"Am not! True as you're alive, the kitchen clock says a quarter of eight o'clock."

"Oho!" murmured Myra guilty. "I—I—really, I forgot——"

"Forgot what?" they demanded, as she doubled up and shrieked with laughter.

"I—I must have set all the watches in the crowd behind time," she managed to explain at length.

"When?"

"Last night."

"What for?"

"Just a joke."

"A joke? I can't see any joke about that!" spluttered Jessie indignantly. "Did you think we wanted to go for a forty-mile auto ride on empty stomachs? I'm as hungry as a bear this minute."

"I am awfully sorry," cried Myra penitently, sobering at the realization of just what would be the outcome of her joke. "I meant to set them two hours ahead, so you would all get up at daybreak and be ready long before the autos came."

"Just like you!" they exclaimed, half amused, half provoked. "What are you going to do about it now?"

"What can we do? The autos are here already with the rest of the people. There are the Carsons and here comes Miss Pomeroy."

"And there is Tabitha's father in his new machine."

"Yes, and mine," said Myra. "My! won't he be mad to think we aren't even dressed? If there is one thing above another that he abominates, it is having to wait for a woman to get ready to go somewhere. Well, I suppose I'll have to break the news to him. Then after you have all gone home again, won't I get the dickens?"

"Hold on!" cried Tabitha, as Myra started for the door. "There is no need of that, is there? I've got a brilliant inspiration. Didn't you say when you investigated the larder last night that your aunt must have baked just a-purpose for our visit?"

"Yes, words to that effect. There is a whole crock full of doughnuts and another of cookies. She must have had baking day just before she decided to take her little trip. But why?"

"We'll just fill our pockets——"

"Haven't any!"

"Well, our hands, then, and eat our breakfast on the sly."

"On the fly you mean," said Gwynne, sarcastically.

"To be exact, yes. Or perhaps it would be better to pretend that we just found the supplies as we were about to leave the house. That will be the truth, so far as the most of us are concerned. Won't it?"

"But cookies and doughnuts are pretty slim fare for hungry bodies," grumbled Vera, tugging at an unruly collar.

"Better than nothing," said Bessie cheerfully. "Dinner will taste all the better."

"But we aren't ready," objected Julia, slipping the last hairpin in the heavy coil at the back of her head. "My shoes aren't buttoned yet, and I can't scare up a hook in the whole outfit."

"Bring 'em in your hand, then," suggested Gwynne. "I'm ready now, and I elect myself commissary general to distribute the rations as you pass out. Who'll be first in line? Gather up your bedding, Jessie, and stack it in the corner, else Myra's aunt will think tramps camped here instead of civilized human beings. Now, are you all clothed and in your right minds? Then, Grace, poke your head out of the window and announce to the audience that we will be out in a minute. Where are your hats and coats? Yes, Kate, there'll be time for you to wash your face if you haven't been able to do so before. Look pleasant, please! No one must suspect that we've had no breakfast; but in my mind's eye, I can see this bunch stowing away their dinner three or four hours from now. Hope they serve it as soon as we get there. Do you suppose there will be enough to go around? How far did you say it was, Myra? Forty miles?"

Laughing and joking, the dozen hungry, breakfastless girls hurried into their coats and veils, seized their pitifully small allotment of doughnuts and cookies, and boisterously climbed aboard the autos waiting for them.

"Only ten minutes late by actual count," Mr. Haskell complimented them, as the merry crowd poured out of the door.

"Well, well, that's doing fine! How did it happen?"

"It's all Myra's fault," began Vera plaintively, but Myra, fearful that she was about to be betrayed, hastily asked, "Where is the dinner, Dad? Didn't mother tell you to bring——"

"Some stuffed squabs, fruit and cake? Yes, she did; and it's packed in that trunk hitched onto the step there. You'll have to sit on it, I guess. There doesn't seem to be quite room enough to accommodate all the crowd."

This arrangement just suited Myra, who loved to romp like her brothers; so she gleefully perched on top of the long, flat chest strapped on one side of the auto, and the procession slowly set out on its long journey.

"My! but it's a beautiful day," sighed Tabitha at length, her eyes wandering from the fog-wet landscape below to the sky above, where the blue was already chasing away the gray, as the sun struggled up behind the eastern hills.

"Didn't I tell you so?" crowed Gwynne, regretfully studying the last bite of a doughnut before popping it into her mouth. "It doesn't rain in California. Is this the river we cross eighteen times, Myra, in order to reach your ranch?"

"Only eight," mumbled Myra, with her mouth full of cookie crumbs. "This is it. Allow me to introduce you to the great——"

"Great!" echoed Tabitha, looking down at the shallow, sluggish stream with critical eyes. "Is it really a river? Looks to me like the little puddles we used to sail boats in after a heavy rain-storm back home when I was a little tot."

"It isn't very awe-inspiring now, is it? But you should see it in the spring after the rains. It certainly can play havoc then. Changes its channel every two or three years, and causes all sorts of damage. What is the matter ahead there?" Their auto had slowed down suddenly, and now came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road. "What has happened, Dad?"

"Carson's auto is stuck in the mud."

"Mud?"

"Well, the river-bed, if that suits you any better. I'll get out and see if I can help them——"

"No need; they've started up again," said Tabitha, waving her hand at Carrie and wishing that she had been fortunate enough to get a seat in Mr. Carson's machine.

The delayed procession started onward again, and without further difficulty crossed the muddy river-bed and sped swiftly away down the smooth road on the other side. But that same river had to be reckoned with seven more times, and each time at least one of the cars sank in the treacherous mud and had to be dug out.

"Well, thank fortune, this is the last time we cross!" breathed Myra, as they approached the winding river for the eighth time. "Ours is the only auto that hasn't stuck fast so far. Let her out, Dad, and we'll be on the other bank in a jiffy. I never knew the river to be so high at this season of the year."

"Knock on wood, Myra, knock on wood!" cried Gwynne in mock alarm. "Too late, we've stuck fast! Why on earth couldn't you wait until we had safely reached the other side before you commenced bragging?"

"Huh! You superstitious duck, did you think we could escape? Oh, pshaw, we're out! Not even the fun of having to be helped across like the others were! Well, never mind, Mr. Catt's machine is sure to stick again. It has every time so far. There, didn't I tell you? Hurrah! Watch your father puff, Kitty. Ain't he a sight? Get out your shovel, Mr. Catt!"

Myra was excitedly dancing on the lid of the luncheon-filled chest, as she hung precariously over the back of the tonneau, and bawled her remarks at the unfortunate occupants of the auto behind them, which seemed to sink deeper and deeper in the mire with every effort to dig her out.

"Fasten this rope to your car and we'll try dragging you out," finally suggested the ponderous Mr. Haskell, clambering heavily down from his seat at the wheel and going to the aid of his unlucky neighbor, who was not yet much skilled in the art of running an automobile. So they tied the two cars together with a heavy rope, and tried to drag the captive machine loose, but without success.

"Let me drive," suggested Myra, after they had tugged in vain for several minutes, "and you get out and pull on the rope, too."

"What good will that do?" growled her father crossly. "If sixty horse power won't budge the thing, do you suppose man's puny strength will?"

Nevertheless, he crawled out of his seat once more, and seized the great rope dangling between the two cars. Mr. Catt, resigning his wheel to the driver of the next machine in line, followed Mr. Haskell's example, and with three or four of the other men of the party, they added their strength to that of the machine, and pulled with all their might. Myra, at the wheel, was in her element, and putting on full power, she gave the lever a vicious jerk. The car leaped forward like a thing alive, and bounded up the opposite bank at break-neck speed.

"Ah!" she cried in triumph, "I knew I could get her started. I'm a bird!"

"Oh, Daddy," shrieked Tabitha's voice from the rear seat. "Let go, oh, let go! Mr. Haskell, you'll be killed!"

"Myra, you chump!" hissed Gwynne in her ear. "Shut that thing off! The rope's bu'sted and you are dragging our precious men folks uphill."

Myra glanced hastily behind her, reversed the wheel, and as the car came to a standstill, she sprawled across the seat, doubled up with merriment, half hysterical. "Oh, didn't they look funny hanging onto that rope? What fools some mortals be! Why didn't they let go? Bet Dad's got his nose skinned good, for when I looked back, he was plowing up the road on his head. Is he hurt? I don't dast to ask! Mr. Catt, your clothes are pretty dusty."

"Dusty I'll admit, but not very pretty," he smiled grimly, as he wiped the perspiration from his grimy face. "However, you got the car out of the rut, so perhaps we can proceed on our way now."

"Then it might be wise if I resigned my seat to the chauffeur before I am requested," chuckled Myra, still laughing immoderately at thought of her father's undignified attitude as he was dragged through the dust, clinging desperately to the frayed end of the broken rope. So she scrambled nimbly to her place on the running board, and there Mr. Haskell found her sitting prim and decorous when he had finally recovered his breath and made himself sufficiently presentable to face the rest of the party.

"Your nose is a little—soiled," she told him, as he climbed stiffly into his seat, "and somewhat scrubbed, I'm afraid."

Her voice shook a little in spite of her efforts to control her mirth, and he scowled darkly at his irrepressible daughter, though he only said, "Are you all ready?"

So again the procession of autos took up their journey, and with no further accident finally reached the great walnut ranch where the Haskell family lived during the summer. The rosy, smiling mother greeted them from the veranda as the cars rolled up the smooth driveway and unloaded at the door. "You are late," she said cheerily. "Did you have any mishaps? I knew you would be hungry after your long ride, so we are serving dinner early. Dave, did you get the squabs all right?"

"Yes, he did," Myra answered. "I sat on them all the way out here. Dad, bring on the 'eats'. Why, what is the matter?"

Mr. Haskell stood in the driveway frowning heavily at the car, much as he might have done at a naughty little boy. At Myra's boisterous call, he raised his eyes and inquired, "Where are the 'eats'?"

"In the chest, of course. What do you—" Her voice died away in a husky, bewildered squeak. The rest of the party came closer, followed the direction of her glance, and gasped. The hamper full of stuffed squabs was gone!

"Well, of all things!" cried Gwynne, when the silence was becoming oppressive. "How could it have happened?"

"With Myra sitting on it!" chorused the girls.

"Didn't you miss it?"

"N-o."

"Ha, ha, that's one on you, Miss Haskell," laughed Mr. Carson. "Sitting on the lunch box and never missed it when it tumbled overboard. How did you manage to stick on?"

"How did the other machines manage to come along behind us and never find it?" retorted Myra, nettled at the hilarity of her companions. "That is the question!"

"We must have lost it in the river," suggested Tabitha.

"Of course! When we were trying to pull out the other machine and I shaved Dad's nose. Didn't I do a good job, Mumsie? Must we go hungry now because I lost all your little stuffed scrubs,—I mean squabs?" Anxiously she turned toward her mother and scanned that sober face, for her eighteen hour fast had left her half famished, and there were at least eleven other girls in the same boat, all because of her stupid attempt at joking.

"We-ll, I have cooked a kettle of new potatoes and another of green corn,—plenty of both. But it looks as if you must go without meat."

"Oh, we can get along nicely, I know. Vegetables are better than meat anyway, you know. Come on, let's eat!" At that moment she felt hungry enough to swallow the dishes themselves, and anything sounded appetizing to her. As the rest of the party were equally as hungry, they were not slow to respond to her invitation, and in a very short time the tables were stripped; but the ravenous appetites were appeased, and the little company scattered in groups about the ranch to enjoy the few brief hours of their stay.

The return trip was as tame as the first part of the journey had been exciting, for not a single car stuck once, and just as the city clocks were striking nine, the tired, sunburned, but blissfully happy girls again found themselves entering Mrs. Cummings' deserted house, where they were to spend this last night before Ivy Hall opened its doors to receive them.

"Oh, Kit, your father gave me a letter for you, hours ago," suddenly exclaimed Myra in dismay, as they were unrolling their blankets ready for bed, and she dragged forth a crumpled envelope from her blouse and presented it to her surprised companion. "I'm so sorry I forgot it. Really, it's inexcusable in me."

"It's of little consequence," Tabitha assured her, scanning the unfamiliar handwriting with puzzled eyes. "I don't know anyone in Boston. Oh, it's from Billiard and Toady, I reckon. They live at Jamaica Plains, and—why, there's money in it! One hundred dollars. What in the world— Will you listen to this, girls? You know I told you about their getting part of the reward for helping capture the bank robbers in Silver Bow? Well, they are sending it back and want to know if it's enough to give Mercedes another year at Ivy Hall."

A deep hush fell upon the group of tired, sleepy girls preparing for the night. Each maid recalled with a twinge of conscience the picture of quiet, sober-faced Mercedes McKittrick, as she had said good-bye to them that last day of school. "I can never forget any of you," she had said shyly, "and I'm glad of that, for it's nice to remember pleasant times when you can't have any more." They had not understood then, but now they knew it was her way of renouncing the happy school days which she must give up because of her father's illness; and they were ashamed of their indifference.

"I'll add fifty dollars of the check Uncle Jerry gave me," whispered Gloriana, breaking the painful silence at last.

"And there's my birthday money in the bank," said Tabitha. "That's another fifty."

"Oh, if only I hadn't spent my allowance for clothes that I didn't need!" groaned Myra. "But I still have nine dollars and ninety-nine cents left. Can anyone make it an even ten? Ivy Hall will be open to us to-morrow, and school begins Monday. I can get along nicely on my nerve until my next allowance comes in. Here, let's pass the hat."

"Me, first!" cried Bessie enthusiastically, reaching for her purse. "I'll give ten dollars."

"My money is all gone," mourned Grace, "but I'll promise ten dollars if you will take pledges."

In utter amazement Tabitha sat curled up on her pile of blankets, watching the shower of gold and silver which poured into her lap. "Oh, girls," she gasped, when she could find her tongue. "How can I ever thank you? Mercy will be transported with joy. Here's more than enough to pay all her expenses, and Carrie will want a share in it, too. Aren't friends splendid!" Her voice was husky and tremulous, and two bright drops glistened in her black eyes. What a beautiful world this is to live in! Somehow, the spontaneous gift to little Mercedes seemed a gift to her also, and she thoroughly appreciated the loving act of her classmates. What a beautiful climax to her summer vacation!

Jessie sniffed audibly, and Vera surreptitiously wiped a big tear off the end of her nose. Myra, who hated scenes, brought the group back to the earth with a thump, saying briskly, "Come, let's to bed! I'm half dead already, and my face is smarting like sin. I don't like your cold cream, Kitty."

"Cold cream?" repeated Tabitha in surprise.

"Yes, I helped myself to the contents of the jar I found in your suitcase. No one else had any, and my face was burned to a frazzle."

"Did you put that stuff on your face?" screamed Tabitha, holding up a tiny white jar of creamy paste.

"Sure. Why?"

"Because it's corn salve. No wonder it smarts. Go wash——"

But Myra waited to hear no more. There was a wild scamper of bare feet on the hall floor, the bath-room door banged noisily, water splashed vigorously, and just as the girls were drifting off to sleep, they heard Myra, snuggling down in her blankets, murmur sadly, "It's lucky the Hall opens to-morrow. Otherwise these girls would soon be the death of me."

THE END