Mary Cox! I guess we know what you've been up to," exclaimed
one who seemed older than the other girls in waiting.

"Did you rope any Infants, Mary?" cried somebody else.

"'The Fox' never took all that long walk for nothing," declared another.

But Mary Cox paid her respects to the first speaker only, by saying:

"If you want to get ahead of the Upedes, Madge Steele, you Fussy Curls
had better set your alarm clocks a little earlier."

Ruth and Helen were climbing out of the old coach now, and the girl
named Madge Steele looked them over sharply.

"Pledged, are they?" she said to Mary Cox, in a low tone.

"Well! I've been riding in the Ark with them for the last three miles.
Do you suppose I have been asleep?" returned Miss Cox, with a malicious
smile.

Ruth and Helen did not distinctly hear this interchange of words
between their new friend and Madge Steele; but Ruth saw that the latter
was a very well dressed and quiet looking girl--that she was really
very pretty and ladylike. Ruth liked her appearance much more than she
did that of Mary Cox. But the latter started at once into the cedar
plantation, up a serpentine walk, and Helen and Ruth, perforce, went
with her. The other girls stood aside--some of them whispering
together and smiling at the newcomers. The chums could not help but
feel strange and nervous, and Mary Cox's friendship seemed of value to
them just then.

Ruth, however, looked back at the tall girl whose appearance had so
impressed her. The coach had not started on at once. Old Dolliver did
everything slowly. But Ruth Fielding saw a hand beckoning at the coach
window. It was the hand of Miss Picolet, the French teacher, and it
beckoned Madge Steele.

The latter young lady ran to the coach as it lurched forward on its
way. Miss Picolet's face appeared at the window for an instant, and
she seemed to say something of importance to Madge Steele. Ruth saw
the pretty girl pull open the stage-coach door again, and hop inside.
Then the Ark lumbered out of view, and Ruth turned to follow her chum
and Mary Cox up the winding Cedar Walk.

CHAPTER V

"THE DUET"

Helen, by this time, having recovered her usual self-possession, was
talking "nineteen to the dozen" to their new friend. Ruth was not in
the least suspicious; but Mary Cox's countenance was altogether too
sharp, her gray eyes were too sly, her manner to the French teacher had
been too unkind, for Ruth to become greatly e