pacers.' Certainly he has me outclassed as a runner. Do
wait for me, Mr. Latham!"

Reginald Latham had run ahead of the rest of the party, and was tearing
down a steep hill with no light except from his pine torch. The moon had
gone behind a cloud.

Barbara, farther up the hill, could see the reflection of a sheet of
water. Into it the poor little hunted coon jumped, swimming for dear life
to the opposite shore. The dogs hesitated a minute, then went into the
water after it. But Reginald Latham was now going so rapidly he could not
stop himself.

With a rush he was in the water, just as Bab's warning cry rang out.

"Help me! I am drowning!" he shouted. For the minute he and Barbara were
alone. The rest of the party had followed the two dogs, whose baying
sounded some distance across through the woods.

Barbara was down the bank, and out in the stream in a second. To her
disgust she found the water only up to her waist. They were at the edge
of a small pond, but Reginald Latham clutched at Barbara, panic-stricken.

"Why, Mr. Latham," cried Bab in disgust, "you are not drowning. This
water is not three feet deep. We have only to walk out."

At this instant, Ralph Ewing and Mollie came rushing down the hill.

"What on earth's the matter, Bab?" asked Mollie.

"Oh, nothing," said Bab loyally, "except that Mr. Coon has led us into a
nice mud bath. I expect Mr. Latham and I had better return home. I don't
believe I am a first-class hunter. My sympathies are too much on the side
of the coon."

"Can I help either of you?" asked Ralph Ewing courteously. But when Bab
said "no," he and Mollie were off through the woods again.

"It was good of you, Miss Thurston," Reginald Latham apologized, as he
and Bab made their way up the hill again, "to take part of the
responsibility for our plunge into the pond on yourself. I am an awful
coward about the water. I would take my share of the blame, except that
my uncle would be so angry."

"But you are not afraid of your uncle, are you?" Bab inquired
impetuously. "You seem grown up to me, and I don't see why you should be
afraid. Mr. Latham is awfully nice anyhow."

"Oh, you don't understand, Miss Thurston," declared Reginald Latham
peevishly. "Everything in the world depends on my keeping on the good
side of my uncle. My mother has talked of nothing else to me since I was
a child. You see, uncle has all the money in the family now. He doesn't
have to leave me a red cent unless