said; "maybe I will ask Marjorie for that day."

"Then you'll get left!" retorted Ruth triumphantly. "She has a date,
too!"

"Well--then I'll ask Miss Maria!" he concluded, mentioning one who was
the typical "old-maid" of the town, and who unconsciously bore the brunt
of all the young people's jokes.

When Jack and Marjorie came over to Ruth's on Wednesday evening, Harold
found the girl to be just as he had expected: rather quiet and
diffident, even pretty, but not striking-looking; and he made no attempt
to become intimate with her. After they had tired of playing cards,
whenever Jack and Ruth saw fit to dance together, he offered to do
likewise with Marjorie, as a mere matter of form. But he did not find
her easy to talk to.

"Jack, what's Marj going to do on Friday?" Ruth asked as she poured the
cocoa from the chafing dish on the tea-table.

Marjorie looked up, amused. She was sincerely thankful that Jack knew as
little as Ruth about her coming adventure.

"You can search me!" replied the boy. "I did hear dad mention an auto
ride."

"Your father?" repeated Ruth. "Is that all? And here I was picturing a
secret meeting with an unknown lover----"

"Wrong as usual!" said Marjorie, a little sharply. "I told you that
before, Ruth."

Harold Mason looked up quickly, incensed at the tone Marjorie had
unconsciously used towards Ruth. In that instant he became her enemy; if
she and Ruth should be rival contestants in any cause again, he vowed to
himself that he would do all in his power to help the latter.

"Well, if it's nothing exciting, why don't you tell us about it?" said
Jack.

"It's a personal matter, Jack," said Marjorie; "I should think you and
Ruth would understand that by now!"

Apparently, Ruth was squelched. "I beg your pardon," she said humbly.
But the very next instant she winked at Harold, and he knew her well
enough to interpret the signal as a challenge against Marjorie.

"Don't make any engagement for Friday!" she whispered, as Harold left
the house with the others.

By pre-arranged signals, Ruth and Harold sat waiting in his car at
eight-thirty on Friday morning. The machine did not stand in front of
either Mason's or Henry's house; instead, it was drawn up before a
provision store, where, to the passer-by, it might appear to be waiting
while Mrs. Mason or Mrs. Wilkinson was making purchases inside.

The young people did not have to wait long, for a few minutes before
nine, Jack Wilkinso