ing
her luxuriant hair for the night and, with it only half combed, leaned
back in the small chair the stateroom afforded. Alice was reclining on
her berth.

"Does it worry you, Ruth?" the younger girl finally asked.

"A little, yes." Ruth was unusually quiet, and there was a far-away look
in her deep blue eyes.

"Oh, don't take it so seriously," rallied Alice, in her vivacious way,
though at first she, too, had been affected by what she read.

"But it is serious."

"Oh, it may be only one of those 'newspaper yarns,' as Russ calls them."

"Alice, your language, of late--"

"There, sister mine! Please don't scold--or lecture. I'm too sleepy," and
she finished with a yawn that showed all her white, even teeth.

"I'm not scolding, my dear, but you know I must look after you in a way,
and--"

"Look after yourself, my dear. With your hair down that way, and that
sweet and innocent look on your face, and in your eyes--you are much more
in need of looking after than I. Someone is sure to fall in love with
you, and then--"

"Alice, if you--"

"Don't throw that hair brush at me!" and the younger girl covered herself
with a quilt, in simulated fear. "I--I didn't mean it. I'll be good!" and
she shook with laughter.

Ruth could not but smile, though the serious look did not leave her face.
She was very like her father. The least little matter out of the ordinary
affected him, and usually on the sad, instead of on the "glad" side. He,
like Ruth, was of a romantic type, inclined to anticipate too much. Alice
was more matter of fact, not to say frivolous, though she could be very
sensible at times.

"Well, I suppose we must go to bed," sighed Ruth at length. "But I'm
afraid I sha'n't sleep."

"On account of thinking of those girls?"

"Yes, just imagine them out all alone in some dismal swamp, perhaps,
without a light, hungry--afraid of every sound--"

"Please stop! You're getting on my nerves."

"I didn't mean to, my dear," was the gentle answer.

"I know you didn't, and it was mean of me to talk that way," and a plump,
bare arm stole around the other's neck, while a hand was run through the
golden hair. "But, don't let's think so much about them. Perhaps they are
not those two girls we met, after all."

"Oh, I don't believe they can be," Ruth agreed. "That would be too much
of a coincidence. But they are two girls--"

"Not necessarily. Maybe it's only an unfounded rumor. Russ says newspaper
men often 'plant