"No, sir, she only took de one. Here's t'other. I reckum she'll be
right glad to see yeh, Mas'r Howard. We-all hes missed you mighty
powerful lot. That there little fish-eyed lady-man wot is visitin' us
ain't no kind of substoote 'tall fer you----"

Howard beamed on her silently and was off like a shot, forgetful of
the chimes on the clock of the college, which were now striking the
hour at which he was to have led the procession down the ivy walk to
the scene of festivities.

Over two fences, across lots, down a steep, rocky hill, and he was at
the little landing where the Cloud canoe usually anchored. But Leslie
and her boat were gone. No glimpse of bright hair either up or down
stream gave hint of which she had taken, no ripple in the water even
to show where she had passed. But he knew pretty well her favorite
haunts up-stream where the hemlocks bowed and bent to the water, and
made dark shadows under which to slip. The silence and the beauty
called her as they had always called him. He was sure he would find
her there rather than down-stream where the crowds of inn people
played around, and the tennis courts overflowed into canoes and
dawdled about with ukeleles and cameras. He looked about for a means
of transport. There was only one canoe, well-chained to its rest. He
examined the padlock for a moment, then put forth his strong young arm
and jerked up the rest from its firm setting in the earth. It was the
work of a second to shoot the boat into the water, fling the chains,
boat-rest and all into the bow, and spring after. Long, strong, steady
strokes, and he shot out into the stream and away up beyond the
willows; around the turn where the chestnut grove bloomed in good
promise for the autumn; beyond the railroad bridge and the rocks; past
the first dipping hemlocks; around the curve; below the old camp where
they had had so many delightful picnics and watched the sunset from
the rocks; and on, up above the rapids. The current was swift to-day.
He wondered if Leslie had been able to pass them all alone, yet
somehow he felt she had and he would find her up in the quiet haven
where few ever came and where she would be undisturbed. Paddling
"Indian" he came around the curve silently and was almost upon her,
but was unprepared for the little huddled figure down in the bottom of
the boat, one hand grasping the paddle which was wedged between some
stones in the shallow stream bed to anchor the frail bark, the other