finish this letter to Daddy," Jessie said, hastily. "And
then, oh, Amy Drew, I have an idea!"

"Another idea?" cried her friend.

"I don't know whether there is anything in it or not. But listen.
Don't you think we might get Henrietta, take her over to the Gandy
place, and look around again for Bertha?"

"We-ell, I admit that kid has got sharp eyes. But how could she see
into those buildings that are all shut up any better than we could
when we were over there?"

"You don't just get my idea, honey. If the girl who radioed her
message, and which we heard, is Henrietta's cousin, she will know
Henrietta's voice. And if Henrietta calls her from outside, maybe she
can shout and we will hear her."

"That is an idea!" exclaimed Amy. "It might work, at that." Then she
laughed. "Anyway, we can give Hen a ride. Hen certainly likes riding
in an automobile."

"And Nell has got an almost new dress and other things for her. Let us
go down to the parsonage and get them. And while Chapman goes to town
with this letter we'll paddle around to Dogtown and get Henrietta."

"Fine!" cried Amy, and ran home for her hat.

A little later, when she had returned from the parsonage with the
bundle and the chums were embarked upon the lake, Jessie said:

"I hope the poor little thing will like this dress that Nell was so
kind as to find for her. But, to tell the truth, Amy, it seems a
little old for Henrietta."

"Is it a cape-coat suit?" giggled her friend.

"It is a little taffeta silk, and Nell said it was cut in a style so
disgracefully freakish that she would not let Sally wear it. It was
bought at one of those ultra-shops on Fifth Avenue where they have
styles for children that ape the frocks their big sisters wear."

"Let's see it," urged Amy, with curiosity.

"Wait till you see it on Henrietta. There are undies, too, and
stockings and a pair of shoes that I hope will fit her. But consider!
Taffeta silk for a child like Henrietta."

There could be no doubt that the girls from Roselawn were welcome when
they landed at Dogtown and came to the Foley house. The greater number
of the village children seemed to have swarmed elsewhere; but little
Henrietta was sitting on the steps of the house holding the
next-to-the-youngest Foley in her arms.

"Hush!" she hissed, holding up an admonishing finger. "He's 'most
gone. When he goes I'll lay him in that soap-box and cover him with
the mosquito netting. Then I can tend to you."

"Th