ething had
happened. Maybe----"

"What?" asked Roy, as she stopped suddenly.

"Oh, nothing," she said in some confusion. "Nothing at all."

"They may have gone over to that fisherman's hut, just to see what it
was like," Mollie said. "You know the old woman was always teasing us to
come in and have some milk. She may have been more persuasive this time,
though Betty couldn't bear her."

"We'll have a look in that direction," suggested Henry.

"Yes, for I don't just like the looks of the weather," added Allen.
"Henry and I will go over there," he said. "Roy, you stay here with the
girls and help them pack up the things. We may have to make a run for it
when we come back with Betty and Amy."

"If you find them," said Mollie, in a low voice--so low that no one
heard her.

Allen and Henry set off over toward the sand dunes behind which was
hidden the fisherman's shack. Grace, Mollie and Roy began collecting
the picnic things.

The young law student and his chum made good time. Nor did they waste
any when they reached the lone cabin. A glance up and down the beach
showed no trace of the missing ones. In the offing a schooner was slowly
sailing away.

"There goes that boat," remarked Allen. "Didn't seem to have any
business around here--neither clamming or fishing."

"That's right," agreed Henry. He knocked, and, after waiting a moment,
tried the latch. The door swung open, showing the place to be deserted.

"Betty--Amy!" called Allen.

There was no answer. Then with a quick motion Henry darted forward and
picked up something from the floor. It was a handkerchief.

"It's my sister's," he said. "They--they've been here!"

He and Allen looked at each other strangely.

CHAPTER XXIII

SMUGGLED DIAMONDS

Slowly the mysterious schooner gathered headway. Her sails creaked and
groaned as the ropes slipped through the sheaves, and the chains
squeaked around the drum of the steering wheel. There was a rattle of
blocks, hoarse cries from several sailors on deck, and then, down in the
cabin, where the horrid old woman slipped the pieces of cloth from the
mouths of Betty and Amy, had the two girls the strength to utter cries
it is doubtful if they would have been heard a hundred feet away.

There was no other craft within a mile of the vessel that was moving up
the bay toward the more open water.

"There you are, my dear," leered the fishwife. "All nice and snug and
comfortable."

"Oh--oh!" gasped Betty,