“Oh, lovely!” cried Dorothy, always ready for anything that Miss Burton proposed.

As she spoke a sound as of some one sliding came from behind the big rock, and then a low but unmistakable chuckle.

“It’s some of those horrid boys,” said Dorothy tragically.

The girls tore off caps and sashes, but before they could wholly divest themselves of their gypsy appearance two heads peered around the rock and a pleading voice said, “Please, may we come in?”

“Indeed you may not,” cried Dorothy, quite white with anger.  “I think you’re the meanest boy I ever saw, Frank Marshall, and you’re not one bit better, Bert.  Between you, you always spoil all my good times.  I think it’s the most despicable thing to spy on people, and——­”

There was such a sudden stillness about her that Dorothy became conscious of Miss Burton’s troubled expression and Ruth’s surprised face.

“Well, I don’t care; it was a mean trick,” she muttered as she turned her back on the boys and walked away.

“Honestly, girls, we didn’t mean to make you mad,” said Frank as his sister finished.  “We came up for a walk and didn’t know any one was here till we saw the smoke from your fire.  We came over to find out about that, and heard the young lady from the West recite her poem.  We should have gone off without letting you know if Bert hadn’t slipped on the rock.”

“Of course,” added Bert with an extremely virtuous air, “if we had guessed that this was the famous club we should have put our fingers in our ears and have run away.”

“You sinner,” said Betty, who couldn’t help laughing, “you know you have tried ever since we have had the club to make me tell you about it.”

“I propose,” said Miss Burton, “that we put the boys on their honor not to tell what they have seen and heard.”

“Second the motion,” said Charlotte with great promptness.  “We have them there, for boys never tell when they’re on honor.”

“Good for you, Charlotte,” said Frank gratefully.  “We’ll promise, won’t we, Bert?”

“Of course,” agreed Bert.  “And, girls,” he continued, “we’ve got some potatoes roasting in the ashes near here that’ll be just the thing to brace you up for the walk home.  Come along and help us eat ’em.”

“I should say we would,” accepted Charlotte.  “Did you ever know us to refuse anything to eat?”

The little feast and the walk home became the jolliest things possible.  Tired as she was, no one was merrier than Ruth. for in her inmost heart she was sure that she should find news of her father waiting for her.

CHAPTER VI

BAD NEWS AND GOOD

As she entered the house, Ruth’s first glance was at the hall table, but there was no important-looking yellow envelope to suggest that her cablegram had arrived.  Then her eye fell on the evening paper; perhaps that might tell that the “Utopia” was safely in port.  She started to turn to the shipping news, but her gaze was caught by a headline on the first page, and she stood rigid, holding the paper in her shaking hands and trying to make sense of what she was reading.