on. I can't stay long. I wonder if you will tell me where I can
find her?"

Teresa frowned.

"I thought you always claimed to be fond of music, Lance, so I don't
see why you need be in such a hurry."

Again Teresa twanged at her banjo, a little angrily on this occasion,
so that the boy's sensitive face twitched.

"Oh, for goodness sake don't make that noise, please, Teresa, and
don't be annoyed. I'd like to talk to you if I had time. I don't think
I am fond of the banjo as a musical instrument, but I've simply got to
find Dorothy. If you don't know where she is will you ask Miss Mason?
Tell her it is important or I would not have appeared. Oh, yes, I know
the Boy Scouts are more welcome visitors at present than they were,
still I really have too much else to do ordinarily!"

So worried was Lance's expression that Teresa relented.

"You might tell me what you have on your mind. If you don't wish to,
why, I do know where Dorothy is. She and Tory Drew and Louise and
little Lucy rowed over to the other side of the lake, not far off. If
you are in a hurry you can take the other canoe and join them. It will
require less time than walking around the shore and I'll go with you
if you'd like to have me come."

Lance flushed.

"You will think I am rude I am afraid, Teresa, but it is rather a
private matter I want to talk over with Dorothy, so if you don't
object I'll row over alone. Some other time you and I----"

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, it does not make any difference," she returned, and began humming
a gay little tune and playing more softly.

As he entered the silver canoe and started paddling across the shallow
lake Lance regretted his decision. His was a nature not so uncommon as
people suppose. He disliked hurting people in small ways, in larger
and more important ways he was apparently indifferent.

He liked Teresa and thought her extremely pretty.

After all, Dorothy would not be alone, although they could go off
somewhere nearby together. Yet Lance knew he would not particularly
object to the presence of Louise Miller and Tory Drew.

No difficulty arose in discovering the group of girls. Before Lance
shoved his boat from the shore he observed them at a point about
three-quarters of the way down the opposite shore. He could not
distinguish one from the other nor tell the exact number.

As he approached nearer he observed that Tory was seated with an easel
in front of her, and at a short d