ilight the boat reached a spot that seemed especially
created for the travelers. For two hours they had been silently
drinking in the beauty of the sun-lit bay and the green earth. They
were not in the main body of the great Chesapeake Bay, but in one of
the long arms of the bay that reaches into the Maryland coast.

"Look ahead of you, girls, to the left," called Phyllis Alden, as they
glided slowly along.

Miss Jones and the three girls looked. There, in a curve of the land,
was a low bank, with great clusters of purple iris growing along it,
among the slender, long, green stems of the "cat-tails." An elm tree
stood close to the edge of the water, spreading its branches out over
the miniature sea. It was so strong, so big and enduring that it gave
the home-seeking girls a sense of protection. The elm's branches could
shelter them from the sun by day, and at night their boat could be tied
to its trunk. Farther up the bank the girls could see a comfortable
old, gray, shingled farmhouse. The farm meant water, fresh eggs, milk
and butter.

Madge looked inquiringly at their chaperon, who nodded with an
expression of entire satisfaction. Next, Madge glanced about the
semi-circle of eager faces. "Shall we cast our anchor in Pleasure
Bay?" she asked, and thus the pleasant little inland sea was named.

Madge signaled to the motor boat ahead, and the engineer stopped. He
had several passengers on board his motor boat, but the men had been
inside the saloon most of the time, and no one on board the houseboat
had noticed them.

Before the houseboat anchored Madge and Phil ran up the hill to ask at
the farmhouse for the privilege of making a landing. They had learned
a lesson they were not likely to forget.

Too tired to begin work, the girls ate their supper out of the luncheon
baskets, then sat about on deck, singing and talking until the stars
came out and twinkled down on their little houseboat with a million
friendly eyes; then, urged by their chaperon and their own heavy eyes,
they crept into their berths.

It was still night when Madge awakened with a start. She thought she
heard some one talking. "To whit! to whoo!" It was only the call of a
friendly owl. Yet the night seemed curiously lonely. It was strange
to be asleep on the water instead of on the land! There was another
weird sound, then something stirred outside on the deck of the boat.
From her cabin window Madge could see the line of the s