lanced at the big clock solemnly ticking on the wall.

"In about three-quarters of an hour."

"Run and write your letter to the Keyport bookseller. One of the boys
will run out and give the letter to the mail carrier."

"But a fifty cent piece won't be safe in a letter," said Eve,
doubtfully.

"We--ell----"

"And I haven't time to run out there and stop Mr. Cheever, and make out
a money order--for fifty cents, too!" exclaimed Eve.

"Humph!" ejaculated Laura. "There's fifty ways of sending fifty
cents----"

"Sure," laughed Eve. "A penny at a time!"

"No. I'm not joking. Write your letter. Give me the fifty cents. I'll
find a safe way. Give me the half dollar now. I'll put the biscuits in
the pans. Is the oven hot?"

"Pretty near."

"I'll try it--with one biscuit, anyway," chuckled Laura, seizing the
half dollar her friend gave out of her purse.

In ten minutes Eve came dancing back from her room with the letter
written.

"How you going to send the money, Laura?" she demanded. "Here's the
letter--all ready."

"And the money will be ready in a minute or two. That oven's good and
hot," said Laura.

"What do you mean?" gasped Eve. "You're not baking the half dollar?"

"Yes, ma'am," laughed Laura. "That's what I'm doing."

She dropped the range door and showed a small pan with one lonesome
little biscuit in it.

"It's baking fine, too. I want it to be a hard, crusty one----"

"And you've baked the half dollar in the biscuit!" screamed Eve.

"That's what I've done. You just add a line to your letter to that
effect. Then we'll put the letter and biscuit in that little box, tie it
up, address it, and Lance Darby will run out to the road and mail it for
you. Be quick now," concluded Laura, whisking the pan out of the oven,
"for the half-dollar biscuit is done!'"

"What an original girl you are, Laura," said Eve, doing as she was bid.
"Who'd have thought of _that_ way to send coin in the mail?"

"Your Aunt Laura thought of it," laughed her friend. "For we want
nothing to stand in your way of passing that examination, Eve. We need
you at Central High."

CHAPTER XI

THE BOAT IS FOUND

And that supper! It was something to be membered by the crowd from town.
Such thick, luscious yellow cream that Mother Sitz lifted from the pans
of milk in the cement block "milk-house" most of the town-bred folk had
never seen before. The biscuits and "short-cake" came out of the oven
with just the right brown