ection to
girls' schools--I wonder why?--was the principal reason she inserted
the clause that we must never be separated. It would prevent you from
sending me away to school. But as for the tutors, I haven't yet made
their acquaintance."

"Tutors cost money," he said in a surly tone.

"I realize that; and while there is an abundance of money, the will
states that it is to be entirely in your control. But we've quarreled
on that subject too many times already, without your loosening your
grip on the dollars. To get back to our subject, I assure you I shall
not be gone longer than twenty-one days, and the trip won't cost you a
single penny."

"When did you propose going?"

"We take the noon train on Monday for Chicago."

He got his hat and left the house without another word, leaving Alora
exultant. She hurried over to tell Mary Louise the good news.

"Did he really consent?" asked Mary Louise.

"Well, he didn't forbid it," said the girl, "and that's the same
thing."

CHAPTER XVII
THE DISAPPEARANCE

The train was late getting into Chicago that Monday night. Colonel
Hathaway took Mary Louise and Alora to the Blackington, but the hotel
was so crowded that the girls could not get adjoining rooms. However,
they secured rooms just across the hall from one another and the
Colonel's room was but two doors removed from that of his
granddaughter, so the three were not greatly separated.

"Never mind, dear," said Mary Louise, as she kissed her friend good
night; "to-morrow we go aboard the yacht, and that will be our home for
a long time."

"What time will you breakfast?" asked Alora.

"Well, we're up late, and Gran'pa Jim likes to sleep mornings. Can you
fast until half-past eight, Alora?"

"Yes, indeed," with a laugh. "I'm used to somewhat early hours, so I
shall probably be dressed by seven. But I'll find plenty to amuse me
until you are up, and I'll knock on your door at eight-thirty."

But in the morning Alora failed to knock on Mary Louise's door, as she
had promised. The Colonel was ready for breakfast, having enjoyed a
good night's rest, and Mary Louise said to him:

"Alora probably slept later than she expected to. Shall I risk wakening
her, Gran'pa Jim?"

"I think so," he replied. "She has slept long enough, for a young
girl."

Mary Louise ran across the hall and knocked at the door of 216. She
knocked again, for there was no answer. She did not dare call out, for
fear of disturbing other gue