len Washburn
to the door.

"And to think," she murmured, while Allen smiled down at her, "that I
didn't like that perfect angel, Peter Levine, at first. Why, I should
have welcomed him with open arms!"

"Why?" asked Allen, taken by surprise.

"Don't you know?" asked Betty, mischievously wide-eyed. "If he hadn't
happened along just when he did our glorious adventure would have
dwindled into a might-have-been. Why, I could love him for it."

"Good-night, I'm going!" ejaculated Allen, and before Betty could gasp
he had flung out of the door.

"Where are you going?" she called, laughter in her voice.

"To kill Peter Levine," growled a voice out of the darkness, and Betty,
closing the door very softly, chuckled to herself.

CHAPTER IV

AN IMITATION HOLD-UP

It was all over. The bustling days of preparation for the long trip,
during which the girls had hardly had time to give vent to their
excitement, had passed, and here they were actually finding their places
in the puffing, western bound train.

"Here's number five," Grace said, as she slid into a velvet-covered seat
with a sigh of thankfulness. "Who is coming in here with me?"

"Guess I'm elected," laughed Betty. "And here's number seven for Mollie
and Amy, and mother and dad are in six right across the way. That
completes the family party."

They were hardly settled when there was a last warning cry of "All
aboard" and the train began to move ever so slowly from the station.

The girls peered out to wave good-by to the boys and some of their other
friends who had come to see them off. The young fellows looked rather
gloomy--all except Allen. The latter shouted something that they took to
be "See you later!" and then the train swept around a curve, hiding the
station from view.

"Well," said Grace, with a sigh, as she opened her grip to fish for the
inevitable candy box, "the boys seemed to take our flitting pretty hard.
They looked as if we were already dead and buried."

"Far from it," murmured Betty happily, her eyes on the ever changing
view from the window. "I feel as if we were just beginning to live."

The hours of the morning passed like minutes to the girls, and they were
surprised when the porter came through with his "Foist call fo' dinnah!"

The afternoon passed uneventfully, and they amused themselves by making
up stories about their fellow passengers. There was the quaint little
man in number four who reminded them of Professor A