. How can we help you?"

"Janos came to-day," Mary almost whispered, "and I am so afraid of him
now. He knows I have friends. He saw you in the cave, but I did not
know you were there during the storm." She was speaking quickly,
fearfully, in fact, and had no chance to observe the changes working
through Jennie's quizzical expression. "And he knows where you
live----"

"Was it he who came to our house this afternoon?" asked Madaline.
"Does he wear an auto duster?"

"Yes, that is Janos. And now he wants to get us all away again. O
dear! poor granddaddy! I know he is sick, but he thinks he is all
right," and the child almost sobbed in her helplessness.

"But is someone watching you now? Is Reda over there?" asked Cleo,
indicating the willow banks.

"No, I ran down and said I was going to find my basket I left somewhere
before the storm. But they surely will come soon."

"If you are afraid, child," spoke up Jennie, "just you come along with
us. We can get a car in the village and I will take you home myself."

Four pair of grateful eyes sent their thanks to Jennie. Mary touched
her hand as it rested on the side of the boat.

"Oh, that is so good of you. But--Janos and Reda are not like
Americans, they are from the tropics, you know, and different. Oh, we
are so miserable and unhappy!" Tears now glistened in the heavy lashes
that fringed her dark eyes, and no one seemed to know just what to say
next. Cleo was first to recover herself.

"If you could possibly come with us to the landing we might make some
excuse for picking you up, and Jennie could go home with you. We might
all go. I'll tell you!" a sudden inspiration breaking in on the
difficult situation. "Jump in. We will row back as quickly as we can
and send the boys over to Bailey's for a big car. Then we will all
drive up the mountain with you. We will have the man for protection,
and if your old Reda is not good-natured we will not let you stay there
to-night. Would your grandfather care? Might he allow you to spend a
night with us?"

All the hidden and suppressed hopes in that strangely veiled
countenance seemed to burst through now, and Mary's expression, from
one of almost impenetrable gloom, assumed a strange light--perhaps
borrowed from the sunset.

"Oh, it is too good to be true!" she sighed. "Someone at last is not
afraid to help me!"

CHAPTER IX

THE SECRET SPRING

That settled it. Before Mary realized her p