s sudden change in
their usually good-natured Little Captain, and Amy hastened to make
amends.

"I'm sorry, Betty dear," she said, flushing with real shame beneath
Betty's accusing eyes. "I didn't mean it--truly I didn't. And I'll never
do it again, never!"

"Oh, all right," replied Betty, controlling herself with an effort and
turning back to the letter. "I'm sorry I said anything, Amy, if you
didn't mean it."

There was a little constrained silence after that, no one knowing just how
to clear the rather electric atmosphere. They went on reading absorbedly,
only the crackling of the paper as they turned a page breaking the deep
stillness of the room.

It was Betty who finally relieved the tension.

"If that doesn't sound just like Roy," she said, and they looked up
expectantly, relieved at the naturalness of her tone. "Allen says that
he--Roy, that is--was very much impressed with his first sight of a
camouflaged ship. Said he had devised a fine scheme of killing off the
German army in a hurry. He'd disguise himself as a piece of Limburger
cheese, and when the Huns came running to him, he'd simply give them a
gentle little tap on the head."

"Humph," snorted Mollie contemptuously, "how long do you suppose he'd be
able to keep that up?"

"He says they'd never suspect the truth," Betty chuckled. "They'd simply
think it was a particularly husky piece of cheese!"

CHAPTER XXIII

THE MIRACLE

It was only a few days later that the wonderful, the incredible thing
happened!

The girls were returning from a rather hurried excursion to a near-by town
when they came face to face with the motorcyclist. His motor had evidently
stalled, and he was standing in the middle of the road tinkering with it.

Paralyzed by the suddenness of the thing, the girls just stood still and
stared until the man, evidently feeling their eyes upon him, turned slowly
about and faced them.

He seemed to recognize them immediately, for his first look of
bewilderment was followed quickly by one of fear, and with an abrupt
motion he turned back to his machine.

"Now we have him, what are we going to do with him?" whispered Mollie, a
comical look of chagrin on her face. "We can't capture him all by
ourselves, and we can hardly expect him to wait while we get some one."

"He is huskier than I thought," admitted Grace, adding suddenly, "Betty,
what are you going to do?"

But Betty either did not hear or did not want to, for she wa