hree very grateful girls behind them.

[Illustration: A FRIEND IN NEED]

"That's helped us out of a fix! Don't say again we've no luck!" cried
Beatrice, wiping her boots carefully on the grass.

"They were angels in disguise!" sighed Ingred.

"Rather stout angels!" chuckled Verity. "Now, how are we going to get
out of this field?"

"Over the hedge, I suppose. There's a piece of fence that looks
climbable!" returned Beatrice, swinging herself up with elephantine
grace, and dropping with a heavy thud on the other side. "Oh! good biz!
We're on a cinder path!"

They were indeed in a back lane which led at the bottom of some gardens,
then behind a row of stables, and finally through a gate on to the high
road.

"I know where we are now!" exclaimed Beatrice gleefully. "It's only
quite a short way to the Morton's. They live in the next terrace but
two. I believe we're within measurable distance of some lunch."

This was such good news that they strode along in renewed spirits.
Considering all, they thought the adventure was turning out well. A meal
would undoubtedly be most acceptable, if Beatrice's friends were
hospitable enough to offer it.

"It's the fourth house," said Beatrice, "the one with the copper beech
over the gate. Linden Lea--yes, here we are! Oh, I say, what are all the
blinds down for?"

The girls faced each other blankly.

"Is anyone dead?" faltered Ingred.

"I'll ring and inquire, at any rate," murmured Beatrice.

So she rang, and rang again and yet again. She could hear the bell
clanging quite plainly and unmistakably somewhere in the back regions,
yet nobody came to the door.

"It's funny! I don't hear anybody in the house either," she remarked.
"Their dog generally barks at the least sound."

At that moment a small face peeped over the top of the wall which
divided the garden from that of the next house, and a childish voice
asked:

"Do you want the Mortons?"

"Yes. Isn't anybody in?"

"They're all gone away to Llandudno, for a month."

"All? Isn't anyone here?"

"No, the house is locked up."

Here a warning call of "Willie!" caused their informant to disappear as
suddenly as he had come, but the girls had heard enough. All their hopes
were suddenly blighted. They had arrived at the end of their journey
only to draw a blank. They were indeed in a worse position than when
they had missed the train at Denscourt, for they were farther from home,
and it was much later. Almost ready