owever, and when the odor of the frying fish on
the outdoor fire began to spread about Green Knoll Camp, Frank declared:

"The angels flying overhead must stop to sniff--that smell is so
heavenly!"

"Nonsense, child!" returned Grace. "That thing you see 'way up there
isn't an angel. It's a fish-hawk."

There were letters to take to the Forge that afternoon, and the girls
all expected mail, too. But after the fishing bout, and the heavy dinner
they ate, not many of the Go-Aheads cared to paddle to town.

"The duty devolves on your captain," announced Wyn, good-naturedly. "Of
course, if anybody else wants to go along----"

"Don't all speak at once," yawned Frank, and rolled over in the shade of
the beech.

"It's a shame! I'll go with you," said Bessie Lavine, getting up with
alacrity.

"All right, Bess," said Wyn, cheerfully. "I am glad to have you go."

The other girls had been a little distant to Bess since their return
from the fishing trip; but not Wyn. She had given no sign that she was
annoyed by Bessie's demeanor towards Polly Jarley.

Nor did she "preach" while she and Bess paddled to the Forge. That was
not Wynifred Mallory's way. She knew that, in this case, taking Bess to
task for her treatment of Polly would do only harm.

Bess had probably offered to come with Wyn for the special purpose of
finding opportunity to argue the case with the captain of the club. But
Wyn gave her no opening.

The girls got to the Forge, did their errands, and started back in the
canoes. Not until they got well out into the lake did they notice that
there were angry clouds in the northwest. And very soon the sun became
overcast, while the wind whipped down upon them sharply.

"Oh, dear, me!" cried Bess. "Had we better turn back, Wyn?"

"We're about as far from the Forge as we are from Green Knoll Camp,"
declared the other girl.

"Then let's run ashore----"

But they had struck right out into the lake from the landing, and it was
a long way to land--even to the nearest point. While they were
discussing the advisability of changing their course, there came a lull
in the wind.

"Maybe we'll get home all right!" cried Bess, and the two bent to their
paddles again, driving the canoes toward distant Green Knoll.

And almost at once--her words had scarcely passed--the wind whipped down
upon them from a different direction. The surface of the lake was
agitated angrily, and in a minute the two girls were in the midst of