b.

"I know what the trouble is. You are homesick," declared Ruth Stuart.
"To-morrow we have planned to give you an interesting day. We are going
to explore the old place and I am going to take you to the Indian
Cemetery. Quite likely some of the same gentlemen who scalped Olive's
ancestors are buried out there. Bab, do you love me just the same as you
used to?" asked the girl, bending a questioning gaze on Barbara's
tear-stained face.

"You ought not to ask me that question, dear," answered Bab. "You know I
do. It seems to me that I have known you for ever and ever so many
years. Perhaps our friendship began in some other life. Sometimes I
think it must have. But you haven't acted quite the same of late. It has
seemed to me that you didn't love me as dearly as you used to and the
thought has hurt me, oh, so much, Ruth."

"Why, Bab Thurston, how can you say so?" exclaimed Ruth. "I love you
better than any other girl I've ever known. You ought to know that. The
truth of the matter is that I am worried, dear. I have not been quite
myself of late. I'm worried about father. Was--was it that that made you
cry, dear?"

"Not exactly. I was crying because--because I felt sorry for you
and--and for----"

"For whom?"

Barbara shook her head and closed her lips firmly.

"I shan't say another word. Please don't ask me. I want to think. If you
don't mind, I am going to bed. Must I go downstairs first?"

"No, child. You tumble right in. I will tell the folks you are not
feeling quite well. I want to speak to Olive before I go to bed,
anyway."

"Tell them that I am going to bed, please."

"Yes."

"Please also say good night to Mr. and Mrs. Presby for me, won't you?"

Ruth said she would do so, and hurried from the room. She stopped in
Olive's room to tell the other "Automobile Girls" not to disturb Bab,
who had gone to bed feeling a little indisposed.

On the following morning matters appeared to have adjusted themselves to
the satisfaction of all, for the girls were in their brightest mood. Bab
now and then grew sober and thoughtful, but strove to throw off the
feeling of depression that persisted in taking possession of her.

"I have a note from father," announced Ruth. "He says Mr. A. Bubble has
entirely recovered. There were some broken bones, but these have been
mended. Bubble is to be returned to us to-day, and then we will have a
jolly ride."

"I sincerely trust there will be no gates in the way this time,"