be a boy's joke, may it not be a boy's
means of telling us what has actually happened? I would not, were I a
man, take the responsibility or chance, of leaving Floretta out there,
because I would go to the place, and thus learn, not guess, if this
information be true."

She had scarcely finished speaking when a number of men rose, and one,
who chose to lead the party, lifted his hat to Mrs. Dainty, saying:

"We are off, madam. We only needed an inspiration to move us to
endeavor."

She bowed and smiled, as she said:

"One thing I ask of you. Go as quickly as possible, for the sake of the
frightened child, and the anxious mother."

"In all possible haste," was the quick reply, and she turned to offer
what comfort she might to the woman who seemed nearly distracted.

* * * * *

And all this time, what had been happening in the wood? For a long time
Floretta had cried, screamed, and shouted, hoping that the boys would
come back and release her.

Then, when she knew that they must be too far away to hear her, she tore
at the clasping bonds, trying in every way to free herself. With feet
and hands she strove to loosen the tough, wiry vines, kicking and
trampling with her restless feet, beating and bending with her little
hands, until they were torn and bleeding, and the tormenting vines
seemed only to hold her with a firmer grasp, as if to prove how useless
was her struggle.

[Illustration: WITH FEET AND HANDS SHE STROVE TO LOOSEN THE TOUGH, WIRY
VINES.--_Page 119_.]

She had cried until she could cry no more, and the sturdy vines had cut
and bruised her.

So firmly was she bound that she could not sink to the grass to rest,
and she had only the hard, rocky ledge to lean against.

How still the woodland seemed! Sometimes a twig would snap, or a buzzing
insect would pause, as if to look at her, but no one came to set her
free.

She waited for a moment to regain her breath, and then again she fought
and struggled with those tough, sturdy vines.

She tried to wrench them apart, to break, to tear them from her, but
they only yielded enough to bend, and then snap back into the very
place that she had pushed them from.

Not a vine broke, not a stem gave way, and she set her lips tightly for
yet greater effort!

CHAPTER VII

FLORETTA'S RETURN

AT a far corner of the piazza sat Dorothy, her eyes terrified, and her
cheeks pale. Nancy, close beside her, wound her arms ab