us brown eyes, peered eagerly over her shoulder.

Tory shook her head.

"Explain yourself again, Lance. What has this book, the story of the
wanderings of the Greek hero, Odysseus, after the Trojan war, to do
with ending the feud between your troop of Boy Scouts and our own of
girls?" Tory patiently inquired. "I know you have some idea in mind,
but it takes a cleverer person than I to fathom it."

Gently Lance removed his book from the girl's clasp.

"Listen, Tory, for a few moments while I read to you. Then I'll tell
you what I mean and ask for your help if you are willing to give it.
You look tired and it may rest you."

Gladly Tory submitted. Clasping her hands together in her lap, she let
her eyes wander from their first glance at the little log cabin with
its bright covering of evergreens on and away into the deeper green of
Beechwood Forest, now shadowy with the approach of evening.

Lance could be agreeable when he liked. The winter before, when first
she had been introduced to Dorothy McClain's six brothers, she had
liked Lance better than the others. She even had preferred him to Don,
his twin brother, whom people in Westhaven insisted was the handsomest
member of the family.

During an illness of Lance's she had been able to save him from being
seriously burned. Afterwards, curiously, they became less friendly. In
any case Tory knew that she at present preferred Don. Not only was he
handsomer and stronger and more straightforward, he showed a sincerer
liking for her.

"So there the stout-hearted Odysseus lay and slept, worn out with all
his toil. But meanwhile Athena went to the Sea-Kings' city, up to the
palace of their ruler, the wise Alcinous and into the beautiful
chamber where his daughter lay asleep, the young princess, Nausicaa,
fair as the Immortals. On either side of the threshold two maidens
were sleeping, as lovely as the Graces, and the glittering doors were
shut. But the Goddess floated through them like a breath of wind up to
the head of the couch, and spoke to Nausicaa in a dream. She seemed to
her one of her dear companions, the daughter of Dymas, the sailor."

As Lance continued reading Tory did not listen attentively. He had a
pleasant, quiet voice that shed a restful influence upon her as he had
hoped.

Tory was not especially fond of reading, not to the extent that her
uncle, Mr. Richard Fenton would have liked. He spent the greater part
of his time in his library at the old Fen