“That’s a good idea,” said Miss Ladd.  “We’ll keep that in mind and if Marion’s father’s advice is favorable, we’ll take it up.”

The train arrived at Hollyhill shortly after 2 p.m.  Mr. Stanlock’s touring car and two taxicabs were waiting at the station to convey the girls to Marion’s home.  The run to the spacious, half-rustic Stanlock residence at the northeast edge of the city occupied about fifteen minutes, and was without notable incident.

The cars passed through a massive iron gateway, up a winding gravel-bedded drive, and stopped near a white pillared pergola connected with the large colonial house by a vine-covered walk running up to a porticoed side entrance.

Mrs. Stanlock met them at the door and the travelers were speedily accommodated with the usual journey-end attentions.  Marion then inquired for her father, but Mr. Stanlock had gone to his office early in the day and would not return until dinnertime.  So the girl hostess decided that she must let the problem uppermost in her mind rest unsettled a few hours longer.

Evening came, but still Mr. Stanlock did not appear.  Wondering at his delay, Mrs. Stanlock called up his office, but learned that he had left an hour and a half before, supposedly for home.

“How did he leave?” Mrs. Stanlock inquired nervously.

“In his automobile,” was the answer.

That being the case, he ought to have been home more than an hour ago.  His office was in the city and he could easily make the run in fifteen minutes.

Thoroughly alarmed, Mrs. Stanlock called up the police, stated the circumstances and asked that a search be made for her husband.

Two hours more elapsed and the whole neighborhood was alarmed.  The news spread rapidly and was communicated by phone to most of Mr. Stanlock’s friends and acquaintances throughout the city.  The search was growing in scope and sensation.  Treachery was suspected, a tragedy was feared.

Then suddenly and calmly, Mr. Stanlock reappeared at home, driving the machine himself.  He had a thrilling story to tell of his experiences.

* * * * *

CHAPTER VI.

The punster makes A find.

When Marion Stanlock selected the term High Peak as her Camp Fire name, her deliberations carried her back from Hiawatha Institute to the scene of most of the years of her child life in Hollyhill.  Confronted with the task of choosing a name, she first consulted her ideals to determine what associations she wished to have in mind when in after years she recalled the motive and circumstances of her selection.