't flatter yourself, Miss! I don't care to speak to you," said Bess.

"Nor do I care to have anything to do with you," said Polly, plucking up
a little spirit herself under this provocation. "You are Henry Lavine's
daughter. I am not surprised at your speech and actions. He has done all
he could to hurt my father's reputation for years--and you seem to be
just like him."

"Hurt your father's reputation--Bosh!" cried Bess. "You can't spoil
a----"

But here Wyn Mallory came to the rescue.

"Stop, Bess! Don't you pay any attention to what she says, Polly. If
this quarrel goes on, Bess, I shall tell Mrs. Havel immediately. You
come with us, Polly; if Bessie doesn't wish to go fishing, she can
remain at camp. Come, girls!"

Bess and Mina remained behind.

"I told you how 'twould be, Miss Wyn," said Polly, her eyes bright and
hard and the angry flush in her cheek making her handsomer than ever. "I
shall only make trouble among your friends."

"You don't notice any of the rest of us running up the red flag; do
you?" interposed Frank Cameron. "Bess's crazy."

"The Lavines have been our worst enemies--worse than Dr. Shelton," said
Polly, with half a sob. "Mr. Lavine is up here at the lake in the spring
and fall, usually, and he will always talk to anybody who will listen
about his old trouble with father. And he is an influential man."

"Don't you cry a tear about it!" exclaimed Frank, wiping her own eyes
angrily.

Wyn had put a comforting arm over the shoulder of the boatman's
daughter. "We'll just forget it, my dear," she said, gently.

But it was not so easy to forget--not so easy for Polly, at least,
although the other girls treated her as nicely as they could. Her face
remained sad, and she could not respond to their quips and sallies as
the fleet of four canoes and Polly's skiff got under weigh.

Polly pulled strongly along the shore in her light craft; but of course
the canoes could have left her far behind had the girls so wished. Their
guide warned them finally against loud talking and splashing, and soon
they came to a quiet cove where the trees stood thickly along the lake
shore, and the water was not much ruffled by the morning breeze.

Polly had brought the right kind of bait for perch, and most of the
girls of the Go-Ahead Club had no difficulty in arranging their rods and
lines and casting for the hungry fish. Perch, "shiners," roaches, and an
occasional "bullhead" began to come into the canoes. The