face upward. One long stare at the face
was enough. The woman who lay there was the young newspaper girl who
had summoned Bab to follow her but a short time before. She still
had on her shabby evening dress. The pad and pencil with which she
took down her society items lay at her side. But Marjorie Moore's
face was pale as death.

Bab's tears dropped down on the girl's face. "My dear Miss Moore, what
has happened? Can't you hear me?" Bab faltered. "It is Barbara Thurston!
I tried to come to help you, but I could not get here until now."

The figure lay apparently lifeless, but Bab knew now that the girl was
still alive. Bab did not like to leave her, for what dreadful person
might not stumble over the poor, unconscious girl? Yet how else could
Bab get help?

At this moment Bab looked up and saw a number of lighted cigars in the
garden near the White House. Evidently a group of men had come out on the
lawn to smoke. As Bab ran forward she saw one of the men move away from
the others. He was whistling softly, "Kathleen Mavourneen, the bright
stars are shining."

"Oh, Mr. Dillon!" cried Bab. "Poor Miss Moore has been dreadfully hurt
and is lying unconscious out here on the grass. Won't you please find Mr.
Hamlin, or some one, to come to her aid?"

"Miss Moore!" exclaimed Peter Dillon in a shocked tone. "I wonder whom
the girl could have been spying upon to have gotten herself into such
trouble? But, Miss Thurston, you ought not to be out here. Come back with
me to the reception rooms. I will get some one to look after Miss Moore
at once. It is best to keep this affair as quiet as possible."

"I can't leave the poor girl alone," Bab demurred. "So please find Mr.
Hamlin as soon as you can. I will ask two of these other men to take Miss
Moore up on a side porch, out of the way of the guests."

The rest of the group of men now came forward; their uniforms showed
they were young Army and Navy officers. One of them was Lieutenant
Elmer Wilson.

"What a dreadful thing!" he exclaimed, as he and another officer, under
Bab's directions, picked up Marjorie Moore's limp form and carried it
into the light. "Some one has struck Miss Moore over the temple with a
stick. She has a nasty bruise just there. But she is only stunned. She
will come to herself presently."

Mr. Hamlin now hurried out with Peter Dillon, followed by Ruth and
Harriet.

"Find our automobile; have it brought as near as possible. We must put
the poor girl