heir Girl Scout Camp in Beechwood
Forest. By dawn, with their luncheon packed and her sketching outfit,
they had set out to explore the heart of the hills, a purple rim
bordering the far side of their own camping site.

During the previous winter in the small Connecticut village Tory
faithfully had fulfilled her promise to her artist father. She had
made no attempt to go on with her drawing and painting, devoting all
her time and energy to her school, her new home and her Girl Scout
Troop.

With summer had come the release from her promise.

These days of camping in the woods with the other Girl Scouts recalled
the enchanting months outdoors she had spent with her father. Every
green tree outlined against the summer sky, their canoes on the lake
before the camping grounds, the Girl Scouts at work or at play, all
were pictures Tory longed to transfer to line and color.

Until to-day the business of getting settled at their summer camp had
left scant opportunity for artistic effort outside the camping
arrangements.

Tory picked up the pile of sketches on the ground beside her. She
studied each one carefully and then tossed it into the fire.

Her present work was valueless; she had become so hopelessly out of
practice.

Finally her eyes rested on a single sheet of drawing paper. On the
instant her expression altered. This sketch was not without worth. She
had drawn it with pastels and in the light from the camp fire. The
lines were crude and the colors too vivid, but it showed the figure of
a girl lying on the ground, her eyelids closed, her figure expressing
a curious quiet.

The lower part of the body was covered.

At present Tory Drew was without the khaki coat which she had worn
earlier in the day. Beside the figure the smoke and flame of the camp
fire formed light and shadow.

Tory sighed.

"At least this will serve for our camp log! The other girls can see
how Kara looked during this interminable night. She will be able to
write the account of her fall. I remember that I was diligently at
work upon an impossible drawing of a line of hills when I heard the
noise of a landslide. There was a sound of earth and rocks being torn
from their foundation and tumbling and sliding down an embankment. I
scarcely looked up. Kara had disappeared for a walk, so there was no
one to whom I might mention the fact. Certainly I had no thought of
associating the noise with her."

Again Tory arose. This time she moved far