come in. And in a
minute or two Miss Kate joined them, too. It was she who had planned
the moonlight dip and for half an hour they ran races on the sand, and
swam, and danced, and had all sorts of queer larks.

Miss Kate was about to call them out and "shoo" the whole brood into
the house again when they heard a horse, driven at high speed, coming
over the creek bridge.

"Hullo! here comes somebody in a hurry," said Tom.

"That's right. He's driving this way, not toward the railroad
station," rejoined Heavy. "It's somebody from Sokennet."

"Who can it be this time of night?" was her aunt's question as they
waited before the gateway as the carriage wheeled closer.

"There's a telegraph office, you know, at Sokennet," said Heavy,
thoughtfully. "And--yes!--that's Brickman's old horse. Hullo!"

"Whoa! Hullo, Miss!" exclaimed a hoarse voice. "Glad I found you up.
Here's a message for you."

"For me?" cried Heavy, and dripping as she was, ran out to the carriage.

"Sign on this place, Miss. Here's a pencil. Thank you, Miss; it's paid
for. That's the message," and he put a telegraph envelope into her hand.

On the outside of the envelope was written, "Stone, Lighthouse Point."
Under the lamp on the porch Heavy broke the seal and drew out the
message, while the whole party stood waiting. She read it once to
herself, and was evidently immensely surprised. Then she read it out
loud, and her friends were just as surprised as she was:

"Stone, Lighthouse Point, Sokennet.--Hold onto her. I am
coming right down. "W. HICKS."

CHAPTER XX

"WHAR'S MY JANE ANN?"

Three of Heavy's listeners knew in an instant what the telegram
meant--who it was from, and who was mentioned in it--Ruth, Helen and Tom.
But how, or why the telegram had been sent was as great a mystery to
them as to the others; therefore their surprise was quite as unfeigned
as that of the remaining girls and boys.

"Why, somebody's made a mistake," said Heavy. "Such a telegram
couldn't be meant for me."

"And addressed only to 'Stone,'" said her aunt. "It is, of course,
a mistake."

"And who are we to hold on to?" laughed Mary Cox, prepared to run into
the house again.

"Wait!" cried Mercy, who had come leaning upon Madge's arm from the
shore. "Don't you see who that message refers to?"

"No!" they chorused.

"To that runaway girl, of course," said the cripple. "That's plain
enough, I hope."

"To Nita!" gasped Heavy.

"But who is