plained Heavy. "And I guess we've landed just in time to see a gale.
I hope it won't last long and spoil our good time."

"Oh, but to see the ocean in a storm--that will be great!" cried Madge
Steele.

The Stones' house had been open for some days and there were two wagons
in readiness for the party. The three boys and the baggage went in one,
while the five girls crowded into the other and both wagons were driven
promptly toward the shore.

The girls were just as eager as they could be, and chattered like
magpies. All but Mary Cox. She had been much unlike her usual self all
day. When she had joined the party in the private car that morning, Ruth
noticed that The Fox looked unhappy. Her eyes were swollen as though
she had been weeping and she had very little to say.

For one thing Ruth was really thankful. The Fox said nothing to her about
the accident on the _Lanawaxa_. She may have been grateful for Ruth's
timely assistance when she fell into Lake Osago; but she succeeded in
effectually hiding her gratitude.

Heavy, however, confided to Ruth that Mary had found sore trouble at
home when she returned from Briarwood. Her father had died the year
before and left his business affairs in a tangle. Mary's older brother,
John, had left college and set about straightening out matters. And now
something serious had happened to John. He had gone away on business
and for weeks his mother had heard nothing from him.

"I didn't know but Mary would give up coming with us--just as Lluella
and Belle did," said the stout girl. "But there is nothing she can do
at home, and I urged her to come. We must all try to make it particularly
pleasant for her."

Ruth was perfectly willing to do her share; but one can scarcely make
it pleasant for a person who refuses to speak to one. And the girl from
the Red Mill could not help feeling that The Fox had done her best to
make _her_ withdraw from Jennie Stone's party.

The sea was not in sight until the wagons had been driven more than half
the distance to the Stone bungalow. Then, suddenly rounding a sandy hill,
they saw the wide sweep of the ocean in the distance, and the small and
quieter harbor on the inviting shore of which the bungalow was built.

Out upon the far point of this nearer sandy ridge was built the white
shaft of the Sokennet Light. Sokennet village lay upon the other side of
the harbor. On this side a few summer homes had been erected, and beyond
the lighthouse was a