friends or relatives, and of course--"

"I see--the accommodations are limited; are they?" and again that sneer
was manifest.

"Yes, they are, I'm sorry to say," spoke Betty. "But why don't you girls
form another club? You could easily do that, and we could be together all
day, if not at night. Why don't you?" she asked, brightly.

"We might," said Alice, cooly. "Come on, Kittie," she added. "I guess
we're not wanted here."

"The idea!" cried Mollie. "Betty, I've a good notion to--"

"Hush!" cautioned Betty, placing a hand on the arm of her impetuous chum.
"Don't say anything. It will only make matters worse. They are trying to
provoke us."

Kittie and Alice walked off, their arms about each other's waist,
laughing heartily at something in which they seemed to find a good joke.

"Let us finish the game," suggested Betty quietly to Grace, and they did.

"I don't see how they could be so bold as to ask us," murmured Mollie.

It was one afternoon, a few days before the close of school for the term,
which also would mark the start of the outdoor girls on their tramping
tour that, as she was packing her books to leave her desk for the day,
Betty saw a note fall out of her Latin grammar.

"That's strange," she murmured, half aloud, "I wonder who could have put
that there? Who is it from, I wonder?"

"As if you didn't know!" laughed Amy, coming up behind her friend. They
were alone in the classroom for the moment.

"Why, what do you mean?" asked Betty blushing slightly.

"I think I saw Will give Grace a note this noon," went on Amy. "Ah,
secrets! And doesn't it happen that Will and Allen Washburn are quite
chummy? If the initials A.W. aren't on that note, Betty--"

"Of course they're not! The idea! Allen Washburn needn't think--"

"Oh, I know he needn't send notes to you this way, but perhaps Will
forgot to deliver it, and Grace just slipped it into your book, intending
to tell you of it. Ah, Betty!"

"Silly. It isn't that at all. See, I'll let you read the note."

Hastily Betty unfolded it. There was but a single unsigned sheet of
paper, and scrawled on it were these words:

"Before you go camping and tramping ask Amy Stonington who her father and
mother are."

CHAPTER V

AMY'S MYSTERY

Betty was quick to comprehend the cruel words, and in an instant she had
crumpled the anonymous scrawl in her hand. But she was the fraction of a
second too late. Amy had read it.

Betty heard the sound of A