andkerchief.

Tavia, too, saw the strange man as he emerged, seemingly, from
nowhere, for she started on a run, laughing uproariously at the herd
of sheep that trotted as she increased her pace, turned as she turned,
and, in fact, seemed to be at a regular game of "follow the leader."

The young man stood carefully posed in the path, just where a huge
stone afforded him a setting for his rather dusty boots.

"What a chap!" commented Edna. "Seems to me he has enough strikes and
poses to make a good cigar box picture."

"Any particular brand?" asked Dorothy. "I might label it
'Spectacular,' with all rights reserved."

"Look at Tavia," begged Cologne with a smile. "The rights are
'reserved' in her particular direction."

"She's welcome," finished Dorothy, just as Tavia reached the spot
where the other girls were now waiting, and where the young man stood
like a statue.

"Another situation?" remarked the man, doffing his hat in the most
gorgeous bow.

"Yes, the climax," answered Tavia. "What do you think of the scenery?"

"Mercy!" breathed Edna aside. "If they start that sort of talk we may
as well camp out to-night."

But the young man did not express his opinion publicly. Instead, he
stepped up to Tavia, and presently the two were conversing in subdued
voices.

Dorothy did not like that. She, in fact, did not fancy this young
man's "apparition" habit, and she now determined to force Tavia to a
sense of her own obligations to reach Glenwood School without further
delay.

"Girls," called Dorothy, "we really must hurry! Thank you, very much"
(this to the strange man), "for your kindness this afternoon, but you
see now, we have to get back to school. We would not have been out so
long but for the fact that this is privilege day--school closes
Thursday."

"Then why not make use of the privilege?" the young man asked, with a
sly look at Tavia. "We don't meet--professional friends every
afternoon."

The thought that Tavia might have met this man while engaged in her
brief and notable stage career, as related in "Dorothy Dale's Great
Secret," flashed across Dorothy's mind. With it came a thought of
danger--Tavia was scarcely yet cured of her dramatic fever.

The sheep stood around in the most serio-comic style, and the seminary
girls were scarcely less comic.

"Oh!" screamed Nita, suddenly, "there comes that awful farmer! And he
has a whip!"

"Can't ride off on a sheep this time," remarked Tavia with ill-c