murmured.

Agony smiled back mechanically and returned the squeeze with only a
slight pressure. "Nonsense," she replied with emphasis. "It isn't on
account of what--I--did at all that she has asked you. It's because you
serenaded her the other evening. That was _your_ doing, Migwan."

"But we wouldn't have ventured to serenade her if she hadn't been so
friendly with you," replied Migwan, "so it amounts to the same thing in
the end. That's the way it has always been with us Winnebagos, hasn't
it? What one does always helps the rest of us. Sahwah's swimming has
made us all famous; and so has Gladys's dancing and Katherine's
speechifying."

"And your writing," put in Hinpoha. "Don't forget that Indian legend of
yours that brought the spotlight down upon us in our freshman year. That
was really the making of us. No matter what one of us does, the others
all share in the glory."

A tiny shiver went down Agony's back. "And I suppose," she added
casually, "if one of us were to disgrace herself the others would share
the disgrace."

"We certainly would," said Sahwah with conviction.

Agony turned away with a dry feeling in her throat and walked soberly
to her tent to prepare for the canoe trip.

"Have you noticed that there is something queer about Agony lately?"
Migwan remarked to Gladys as she laid out her poncho on the tent floor
preparatory to rolling it.

"I haven't noticed it," replied Gladys, getting out needle and thread to
sew up a small rent in her bloomers. "What do you mean?"

"Why, I can't explain it exactly," continued Migwan, pausing in the act
of doubling back her blanket to fit the shape of the poncho, "but she's
different, somehow. She sits and stares out over the river sometimes for
half an hour at a stretch, and sometimes when you speak to her she gives
you an answer that shows she hasn't heard what you said."

"I _have_ noticed it, now that you speak of it," replied Gladys,
straightening up from her mending job to give Migwan a hand with the
poncho rolling. Then she added, "Maybe she's in love. Those are supposed
to be the symptoms, aren't they?"

"Gracious!" exclaimed Migwan in a startled tone. "Do you suppose that
can be what's the matter with her. I hadn't thought of that."

"It must be," said Gladys with a quaint air of wordly wisdom, and then
the two girls proceeded to forget Agony in the labor of rolling the
poncho up neatly and making it fast with a piece of rope tied in a
square knot