“Darry, what do you mean?” Jessie cried breathlessly. “Do you know this girl?” Darry regarded her strangely for a moment, then replied with a forced gayety that did not deceive Jessie for a moment:

“How can I tell? You must admit your description has been meager. There are millions of girls in the United States with blue eyes and black eyelashes, I suppose.”

“There are more in Ireland,” murmured Amy.

From that time on, try as Jessie might to break his silence, Darry remained absolutely dumb on the subject of the girl who had given Amy the counterfeit bill. Jessie knew instinctively that this very silence meant that he knew—or suspected—a great deal more than he wished to tell about this girl, and in exact proportion as his silence lengthened, her curiosity increased. She was piqued, too, to think that Darry could be so secretive. He had always seemed so frank and open in all his actions. He must, she decided unwillingly, think a great deal of this girl to be so careful to shield her from curiosity—even the kindest and best intentioned curiosity like hers.

The day after their meeting, Miss Alling kept her promise to the girls and appeared at the Norwood home promptly at eight o’clock to “listen in” on the wonders of Jessie’s radio set.

She came, she frankly admitted, in a skeptical mood, for she could not bring herself to believe that two such young girls could erect with any degree of success so complicated an apparatus as a radio receiving set. Miss Alling belonged to the type of person who, while believing she can do nearly everything herself, has a good-natured contempt for the accomplishments of most of her sex.

However, the girls proved to her that such a feat was indeed possible, and, after looking the radio set over, Miss Alling pronounced herself converted.

During the course of the evening Nell Stanley appeared, bringing with her Folsom Duckworth, a high school boy all the others knew well.

“I fixed it up at home so that I can go to Forest Lodge with you,” said Nell.

“If you three girls are going, what’s the matter with having Fol along?” suggested Burd. “That will make it three and three.”

“Yes, do come with us,” urged Miss Alling cordially. And so, after some talking, it was arranged. The young folks all liked Fol, even though he was rather of the quiet sort.

After that the whole party grew merry at the thought of the good times ahead. As a fine orchestra was now giving dance music over the radio, a loud speaker was adjusted and soon one couple after another got up to dance.

Burd’s Aunt Emma, like all athletic women, danced wonderfully well, and soon the boys were “cutting in” on her dances.

“She is more popular than us—I should say we—young things,” Amy whispered gleefully in Jessie’s ear. “I will never be afraid of getting old again, after this.”

“I think she is wonderful,” returned Jessie, in a low tone. “After this I am prepared to love even her obstinacy!”

Altogether, the party was a huge success and there was not one among them more sorry than Miss Alling when the lateness of the hour forced it to break up.

“May I come again?” she asked of Mrs. Norwood, as the latter accompanied her to the door.

“My dear, I wish you would,” returned Mrs. Norwood, with genuine cordiality. “I haven’t felt so young for years!”

“And now,” sighed Jessie, after the last one—even Amy—had gone and she was left alone with her radio set, “to-morrow I shall have to take you all down, you dear old thing, wires and everything, and pack you up neatly so that you can go with us up to Forest Lodge. I wonder if you will like the trip as well as we expect to. Oh, radio, dear, we are going to have a lovely time!”

Then, almost before they realized it, the morning of departure had come. The radio set had been dismantled skilfully by Jessie and Amy and was ready for its forty-odd mile trip up into the mountains.

Besides the radio apparatus, the girls carried very little luggage. Since they were to make the journey in Miss Alling’s touring car—with the exception of the three boys, who were to “tag along after them” in Darry’s roadster—it would be necessary to travel as light as possible.

“Anyway,” Amy had remarked philosophically, “we’ll practically live in our outing suits during the two weeks and we’ll need very little else in the way of clothing.”

“Except our bathing suits,” Jessie had laughingly reminded her. “Burd says that the lodge is right on the shore of Lake Towako, you know, and there ought to be plenty of chances for fine swimming.”

The morning of departure dawned gloriously bright. Jessie, waiting with her mother on the porch, heard the roar of an exhaust, and the next moment saw Darry’s black roadster leave the garage on the Drew place and back down the drive into the broad, shaded boulevard.

This was about ten o’clock. Mr. Norwood, who was taking a half-holiday, came out, morning paper in hand, to say good-bye to his daughter.

“Be a good girl and an honor to the Norwood name,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye, and Jessie flung her arms about his neck and gave him a bear-hug.

“You know I always am, Daddy Norwood,” she cried gayly. “Good-bye, Momsey dearest. Write to me, won’t you? I only wish you were coming too.” She was off down the walk, waving her hand gayly to Darry and Amy, who were already “honking” for her before the gate.

“Here come Burd and Aunt Emma now,” Amy called out to her, pointing down the road.

Miss Alling was driving at a merry pace, Burd lounging in the seat beside her with hands folded conspicuously on his chest. In a moment the big car drew up beside the little roadster.

“Glad to see you ready, girls,” said Aunt Emma, briskly. “Hop out, Burd, and you and Darry pile the luggage in the tonneau. I have an old salt’s nose for a storm, and I scent one brewing in the distance. The sooner we get started, the better it will be for all of us.”

Spurred on by this injunction, the boys in a short time had everything ready for the start.

“We’ll have to stop and pick up Fol and Nell,” Jessie reminded them. “But that won’t take long if they are only ready for us.”

“Let’s hope they’ll be,” returned Darry, adding, as he stepped on the starter: “Lead on, Miss Alling. We can do no better than follow in your footsteps.”

Nell and Fol were waiting on the porch of the parsonage, and so they met no delay there. The weather was ideal for such a trip, and, as Miss Alling said, barring accidents, there was no reason why they should not reach Forest Lodge on Lake Towako in time for lunch.

Aunt Emma was an excellent driver, and the handsome car covered mile after mile of macadam road with a smooth, softly-purring motion that was tonic to the action-loving girls. Nell sat beside Miss Alling, and Amy and Jessie occupied the roomy tonneau which seemed not in the least cluttered by the luggage that had been piled in it.

“Oh, isn’t this air wonderful?” sighed Jessie, happily, after a time.

“And the scenery!” murmured Amy. “Look at that mountain rising straight ahead of us. Did you ever see anything more glorious?”

“There is a bridge at the foot of this hill,” Aunt Emma threw over her shoulder. “Wait till you see the view from there.”

For some time they had been traveling straight up into the mountains. The road had been almost one steady ascent. Now, however, the road dipped sharply, and the car—Aunt Emma rarely used any brake but the brake pedal, even on the steepest hills—slid downward with dizzy speed.

“Good gracious, but this is reckless!” Amy gasped.

Just then Jessie suddenly seized her arm in a grip that hurt.

“Amy, look! Look!” she screamed. “Right ahead of us! The bridge is down!”