easure him before you yelled, any more than I did. He
_felt_ as big as--a wildcat, so there!" and Rose turned away with
flushed cheeks, followed by shouts of teasing laughter.

"It's--too bad. I'd have been scared too," said a low voice, and Rose,
turning, stared in amazement at the Poor Thing--the _Poor Thing_--for
almost the first time since she came to camp, volunteering a remark.

"Why--why, you Po--_Elizabeth_!" Rose stammered, and then suddenly she
slipped her arm around Elizabeth's waist and drew her off to the hammock
behind the pines. "Come," she said, "I want to tell you about it. The
girls are all laughing at me--especially Louise Johnson--but it wasn't
any laughing matter to me last night. I was scared stiff--truly I was!"
She poured the story of her experiences into the other girl's ears. The
fact that Elizabeth said nothing made no difference to Rose. She felt
the silent sympathy and was comforted. When she had talked herself out,
Elizabeth slipped away and sought Olga, but Olga was nowhere to be
found--not in the camp nor on the beach, but one of the boats was
missing, and at last a girl told Elizabeth that she had seen Olga go off
alone in it. That meant an age of anxious watching and waiting for the
Poor Thing. She never could get over her horror of the treacherous blue
water. To her it was a great restless monster forever reaching out after
some living thing to clutch and drag down into its cruel bosom. It was
agony to her to see Olga swim and dive; hardly less agony to see her go
off in a boat or canoe. Always Elizabeth was sure that _this_ time she
would not come back.

[Illustration:
We pull long, we pull strong, A dip now--a foaming prow
We pull keen and true; Through waters so blue
We sing to the king of the great black rocks
Through waters we glide like a long-tailed fox]

She had put on her bathing suit, for Olga still made her wade every
morning, and she wandered forlornly along the beach, and finally
ventured a little way into the water. It was horrible to do even that
alone, but she had promised, and she must do it even if Olga was not
there to know. A troop of girls in bathing suits came racing down to the
beach, Anne and Laura following them.

"What--who is that standing out in the water all alone?" demanded Anne
Wentworth, who was a little near-sighted.

Annie Pearson broke into a peal of laughter. "It's that Poor Thing," she
crie