hore. It was
quiet and empty.

This time she heard the sound of a voice. Another voice answered it.
Could it be possible that the second voice sounded like that of Miss
Jones! What could have happened? Without pausing to put on her shoes
Madge slipped into the next room. Eleanor lay breathing quietly in the
upper berth and Miss Jones seemed to be asleep in the lower one. But
the cover was drawn up almost to where her ears should be and Madge
could not see her face.

She crept over to the chaperon's berth. It was necessary to waken Miss
Jones and tell her of the mysterious sounds. She slipped her hand
along the pillow in the dark. There was no response. She groped
deeper under the covers. Still no movement or sound. Miss Jones was
not in her berth. She was out on deck, talking to some one. Madge
returned to her room. She did not intend to call the other girls until
she knew what was the trouble. Phyllis was always brave and so were
Lillian and Eleanor, but in this instance they could do nothing.

The girl stole softly to the cabin window and peeped out. She could
just catch the outline of two figures that were standing well up toward
the bow of the boat. One was a woman's figure, with a shawl thrown
over her head, but Madge was sure that she recognized the chaperon.
Hurrying back to her berth she slipped on her steamer coat and
slippers. She was trying every moment to fight down the distrust and
dislike she had felt toward Miss Jones ever since their first
acquaintance. She was trying to tell herself that she had invited
their teacher to act as their chaperon from other motives, as well as
from sympathy. But the finger of suspicion seemed to point plainly
toward the teacher.

Madge walked quietly, and without any fear or hesitation, out on the
deck of the houseboat, straight toward the two shrouded figures in the
bow. Neither of them heard her coming, but she heard Miss Jones's
distressed plea: "Won't you go away, and never come here again. I tell
you, I can not do it. I simply can't----"

"Miss Jones," Madge's voice, clear and cold, sounded almost in her
chaperon's ear.

The young woman turned so white that Madge could see her pallor in the
moonlight.

The figure with her was shrouded in a long, black coat which was pulled
up about its face. At the first sound of Madge's voice it made for the
extreme end of the boat. With a quick turn, Madge ran after the
escaping form. As it poised