to stop with my aunt. We can take lunch
wherever we find it most convenient, but we'll make Rockford at
dusk, I hope."

"I certainly trust so," said Mollie. "A night on a country
road--never, my dear!"

"The next night we'll stop in Middleville," went on Betty, "at Amy's
cousin's house. From there to Broxton, where Grace's married sister
will put us up, and then, in turn to Simpson's Corners--that's my
uncle, you know--to Flatbush, where Grace's mother's niece has kindly
consented to receive us; on to Hightown, that's Mollie's aunt's place;
to Cameron--that's where we'll go to the camp that Mr. Ford's
half-brother runs."

She paused to make a note and to glance over the schedule to make sure of
some points.

"Then we'll go to Judgville, where my cousin lives, and that will be our
last stopping place. Then for home," she finished.

"It sounds good," said Mollie.

"It will be lovely," declared Betty. "Are you sure your--your aunt and
uncle won't have any further objections to you going, Amy?"

"Oh, sure! It was only because they thought that I might be upset on
hearing of the mystery that they didn't want me to go. But I'm over
that now."

"Bravely over it," murmured Betty, as she put her arms about her chum's
shoulders.

The examinations were on, and boys and girls were working hard, for,
because of the need of some repairs to the school, it had been decided to
cut the summer term short.

Then came the closing days, with the flowers, the simple exercises,
and the farewell to the graduating class, of which our girls were
not members.

"Two days more and we'll be off on our wonderful tour!" exclaimed Mollie,
as she and the others came out of school on the final day. "Oh, I can
hardly wait!"

CHAPTER IX

OFF ON THE TOUR

"How do we look?"

"Don't you think these skirts are too short?"

"Isn't it fine to have--pockets?"

"Oh, Grace Ford! You'll never be able to walk in those shoes! Girls, just
look at those French heels!" It was Amy who spoke.

"They're not French!" declared Grace, driven to self-defense. "They're a
modified Cuban."

"Not enough modification, then; that's what I say!" exclaimed Mollie, the
three expressions which opened this chapter having come from Betty, Grace
and Amy, respectively. "They're of the French--Frenchy, Grace, my dear!"

"I don't care! I tried to get fitted in the kind of shoes you girls
have," and Grace looked at the stout and substantial walking boots of