e had essayed to dig for the hidden thing there had
been too much frost in the ground. Besides, doubtless Ruth and Helen's
inquisitiveness had frightened the strange girl away. Now she was back
again--somewhere now on Bliss Island. She had not accomplished her
purpose as yet. Ruth smote the hard ground at her feet with all her
strength. The pick sunk to its helve in the earth, now softened by the
spring rain.

"Oh! I hit something!" she gasped.

In all probability she would not have continued to dig had this success
not met her at the beginning. Really, her swinging of the pickaxe had
been idly done. But the steel rang sharply on something. She raised the
pick and used it thereafter more cautiously. There certainly was
something below the surface--not very far down----

Dropping the pickaxe, Ruth gained possession of the shovel and threw
aside the loose earth. Yes! there was some object hidden there--some
"treasure" which she desired to see.

In a few moments, becoming impatient of the shovel, she cast it aside
and stooping, with her feet planted firmly in the muddy earth, she
groped in the hole with both hands.

Before she dragged the object into sight Ruth Fielding was positive by
its shape and the feel of it, of the nature of the object. As she rose
up at last, firmly grasping the object, a sharp voice said behind her:

"Well, now that you've interfered and found it, suppose you hand it over
to me. You haven't any business with that vase, you know!"

CHAPTER XXV

THE END OF A PERFECT YEAR

Helen Cameron came running over the hill and down the sloppy path
through the grove. When she reached the Stone Face where Ruth and the
strange girl were standing, she cried:

"What _is_ the matter with you, Ruthie Fielding? Come on over to the
boat. Miss Mallory sent me after you.... Why! who's this?"

"Don't you remember this girl, Helen?" asked Ruth, seriously.

"Why! it's the girl who was camping in the snow, isn't it?" said Helen,
curiously eyeing the stranger. "How-do?"

But the other was not pleased to allow the situation to develop into
merely a well-bred meeting of three former acquaintances. She did not
vouchsafe Helen a glance, but said, directing her words toward Ruth:

"I want that vase. It doesn't belong to you."

"Goodness, Ruthie!" put in her chum, for the first time seeing the
object in Ruth's hands. "What is that thing?"

"I just dug it up here. It is the Egyptian vase taken from the Ard