.

"More than likely, if the _Golden Butterfly_ is doing her best," was
the rejoinder.

Ten minutes later the two machines were racing back to Meadville at
almost top speed. Of course the speedy _Golden Butterfly_ won, but then
a vehicle of the air does not have to contend with the obstacles that a
land conveyance does.

They found Miss Prescott almost on the verge of hysterics. A garbled
version of the events of the night had been brought to her and this,
coupled with the long absence of the three young folks, had made her
extremely nervous.

"I declare, it seems as if you just can't keep out of trouble," she
said.

"Well, it actually does seem so, I admit," confessed Peggy; "but we
promise to be very good for the rest of the trip."

"And never trouble trouble till trouble troubles us," chanted Jimsy
airily.

"That's all very well, but you keep me continually in suspense as to
what you'll do next," almost wailed Miss Prescott. "We set out for a
quiet trip and encounter nothing but troubles--"

"Adventures, Aunt Sally," laughingly corrected Roy; "what is life
without adventures?"

"Well, I'm sure I don't know what young people are coming to," sighed
Miss Prescott with resignation. "There's another thing, what are we to
do with this little Wren?"

"We can't leave her here, that's certain," declared Peggy with
vehemence.

"No, indeed," echoed Jess and Bess, who were of the council.

"Then what are we to do with her?"

"Just tote her along, I suppose," rejoined Peggy; "poor little thing,
she doesn't take up much room; besides, Jess thinks she's an heiress."

They all laughed.

"You must have had an overdose of Laura Jean Libby," declared Roy.

"Roy Prescott, you behave yourself," cried Jess, flushing up; "besides,
she has a strawberry mark on her left arm."

"My gracious, then she surely is a missing heiress," exclaimed Jimsy
teasingly; "all well-regulated missing heiresses have strawberry marks
and almost always on their left arm."

It was at this juncture that a knock came at the door. A bell boy stood
outside.

"A gentleman to see you, sir," he said, handing Roy a card.

On it was printed: "Mr. James Kennedy, Detective, Meadville Police
Station."

"Goodness, a real detective!" exclaimed Jess excitedly; "let's see him."

"You won't be much impressed I'm afraid," rejoined Roy with a smile
at his recollection of the Meadville sleuths.

"Why, doesn't he wear glasses, have a hawk-like nose and