id Mr. Bartlett, "that's what I did, and I don't see
that any one is entitled to it but yourself. You gave us the
only definite clue we had to work on. It gives me great
pleasure, madam, to pay my just debts," and he handed Migwan a
check.

Migwan stared at the slip of paper in a dazed fashion. She could
not comprehend the good fortune that had suddenly come to her.
Then she handed the check back to Mr. Bartlett. "I can't take
your money," she said. "I really didn't do anything, you know."

"That's all right," said Mr. Bartlett, waving her back. "You did
a whole lot more than you know, young lady. Just think of the
worry and anxiety you have saved us! It's worth the money, every
cent of it. I only wish I could offer a larger reward."

So Migwan, still protesting, was forced to accept the check, and
the Bartletts rose to go. "Come over and see us sometime," said
Mrs. Bartlett cordially, "and bring all the girls along. You
might have a sleeping party on our lawn."

"That will be fine, and I accept the invitation in behalf of my
girls," said Nyoda, as she accompanied them to the road where
their car stood.

Up on the shack porch Migwan was the center of an excited group,
and the check was passed from hand to hand. Sahwah sighed
enviously and wished with all her heart that she might be the
heroine of the hour.

"What are you going to do with all that money?" asked one of the
girls.

"It looks," said Migwan in an awed tone, hugging the precious
check in her hands, "as if I were really going to college, after
all!"

CHAPTER VII.

SAHWAH THE SUNFISH.

Migwan sat on a rock on the beach making notes in her journal,
now and then lifting her eyes to the lake to watch the shadows
gliding across the water, as the clouds floated by overhead.
Sometimes the sunlight was darkened for a few minutes and the
lake looked gray and cold, but on the opposite shore a tiny
village nestled at the foot of a mountain, and over there the sun
was shining, and the white houses gleamed brightly against the
dull brown background. "It looks like a mirage," said Migwan to
Hinpoha, who had dropped down on the sand at her feet.

Hinpoha glanced across the lake at the fairy scene and then back
at Migwan. "What are you always writing in that book of yours?"
she asked curiously.

"Wouldn't you like to know, though!" replied Migwan, closing it
up.

"Oh, let me see some of it, won't you, Migwan, dear?" said
Hinpoha coaxin