"I don't know," answered Tom Curtis darkly, clenching his fist. "But
wouldn't I like to find out! Have you an enemy about here?"

Madge shook her head. "No; as I said, we came to the neighborhood only
yesterday. We have met only the farmer and his wife, who allowed us to
land."

"I'll make it my business to find out who served you such a dastardly
trick, Miss Morton," Tom returned. "I expect to be in this
neighborhood all summer. My mother isn't very well, and we like this
quiet place. Our home is in New York. I was a freshman last year at
Columbia."

Only the day before Tom Curtis had informed his mother that he found
the neighborhood too slow, and that if she didn't object he would be
glad to move on. But a great deal can happen in a short time to make a
young man of twenty change his mind.

"Thank you," replied Madge sedately. "I'll be on the lookout for the
wretch, too. Now we must hurry back to our chaperon, Miss Jones. I
won't ask you to come with us this morning, but we shall be very glad
to have you come aboard our boat to-morrow. We haven't named her yet,
but she is so white and clean and new looking that you can't possibly
mistake her. She is lying on an arm of the bay just south of these
woods."

"I'll surely avail myself of the invitation," smiled Tom Curtis as they
paused for a moment at the edge of the woods. Below them the blue
waters of the bay gleamed in the sunshine. And yes, there was their