"I suppose I'll be there to-morrow night," she thought, picking it
up and slitting the wrapper with a convenient nail file.

She opened and smoothed out the first page. The first words that
caught her attention, in large black headlines across four columns,
were:

GYPSY BAND STRICKEN WITH SMALL-POX:

WHOLE TOWN QUARANTINED!

Then followed the account of the discovery of illness among a band
of gypsies camped on the outskirts of Pineville, of the diagnosis of
smallpox, and of the strict quarantine immediately put in force. The
issue of the _Post_ was only two days old.

"Well, I never!" gasped Betty, doing some rapid thinking. "I'm glad
it didn't happen after I got there. I might be held up for weeks. I
can't stay here, that's certain. There's nothing to do but drive to
Glenside and take the train for Washington. I guess Fred will be
willing to change his plans."

She decided that she would say nothing to the Peabodys about the
alteration of her traveling schedule, fearing that if Mr. Peabody
heard she was going to Washington he might accuse her of a conspiracy
with Bob in connection with the lost deed.

Bright and early the next morning she was up, her pretty traveling
bag, the gift of her uncle, packed, her room in perfect order. There
was really no one or nothing to say good-by to, for she felt more