rone room
scene in Paris, which was yet to be photographed, was too delicate a
matter to put in the hands of any double. Wonota was herself--even in
this picture she was a distinct personality--and she must be shown to the
very end of the last reel and the last "fade-out."

The thoughts caused Ruth to feel very, very sober. Helen looked at her
with some appreciation of her chum's despair; yet she could not
appreciate the situation in full.

Suddenly the lighter-minded Helen leaped to her feet from the bank on
which she was sitting, and exclaimed:

"My goodness, Ruth! do you realize that we are marooned?"

"Marooned?" was the wondering rejoiner.

"Yes. Just as though we had been put ashore here by a crew of mutineers
and deserted--a pair of Robinson Crusoesses!"

"Your English--"

"Bother my English!"

"It would surely bother Mrs. Tellingham--if she could hear it, poor
dear."

"Now, don't sidetrack me," remarked Helen. "Don't you see we are cast
away on this desert isle with no means of getting back to the camp unless
we swim?"

"Willie will be after us."

"But, will 'e?" asked the roguish Helen, punning on the boatman's name.

"Do be sensible--"

"Even good sense will not rescue us," interrupted Helen. "I'd like to get
back to camp and hear all the exciting details. Totantora certainly can
say less in a few moments than any person I ever saw. And Wonota is not
much better."

"It does not matter how much they said or how little. The fat is all in
the fire, I guess," groaned Ruth.

"Chirk up! Something is sure to turn up, I suppose. We won't be left here
to starve," and Helen's eyes flashed her fun.

"Oh, _you_!" began Ruth, half laughing too. Then she stopped and held up
her hand. "What's that?" she whispered.

The sound was repeated. A long-drawn "co-ee! co-ee!" which drained away
into the depths of the forest-covered islands all about them. They were
not where they could see a single isle known to be inhabited.

"Who is calling us?" demanded Helen.

"Hush!" commanded Ruth. "That is not for us. I have heard it before. It
comes from the King of the Pipes' island--to be sure it does."

"He's calling for help!" gasped Helen.

"He is doing nothing of the kind. It is a signal." Ruth told Helen
swiftly more of that early morning incident she and Chess Copley had
observed when they saw the boxes carried ashore from the motor-boat.

"Seems to me," grumbled Helen, "you have a lot of adventures with '