"I really don't know," giggled the stout girl. "What do you think it looks like?"
"My—goodness—me!" panted Busy Izzy. "I thought—it—it was Ruth! Why—why don't you look where you're sitting, Jennie Stone?"
But the laugh was on Isadore and he could not turn the tables. The boys had been out to the diving float watching the girls 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
