king at it," suggested Vi mildly.

Billie giggled at the look Laura gave Vi.

"Yes. But may I ask," said Laura, trying to appear very dignified, "why,
if she only wanted to _look_ at the pictures, she couldn't do it some
place else--in her room, for instance?"

"Goodness, I'm not a detective," said poor Vi. "If you want to ask any
questions go and ask Miss Arbuckle. I didn't lose the old album."

Laura gave a sigh of exasperation.

"A person might as well try to talk to a pair of wooden Indians," she
cried, then turned appealingly to Billie. "Don't you think there's
something mysterious about it, Billie?"

"Why, it does seem kind of queer," Billie admitted, adding quickly as
Laura was about to turn upon Vi with a whoop of triumph. "But I don't
think it's very mysterious. Probably Miss Arbuckle just wanted to be
alone or something, and so she brought the album out into the woods to
look it over by herself. I like to do it sometimes myself--with a book I
mean. Just sneak off where nobody can find me and read and read until I
get so tired I fall asleep."

"Well, but you can't look at pictures in a shabby old album until you
feel so tired you fall asleep," grumbled Laura, feeling like a cat that
has just had a saucer of rich cream snatched from under its nose. "You
girls wouldn't know a mystery if you fell over it."

"Maybe not," admitted Billie good-naturedly, her face brightening as she
added, contentedly: "But I do know one thing, and that is that Miss
Arbuckle is going to be very glad when she sees this old album again!"

And she was right. When they reached Three Towers Hall Laura and Vi went
upstairs to the dormitory to wash up and get ready for supper while
Billie stopped at Miss Arbuckle's door, eager to tell her the good news
at once.

She rapped gently, and, receiving no reply, softly pushed the door open.
Miss Arbuckle was standing by the window looking out, and somehow Billie
knew, even before the teacher turned around, that she had been crying
again.

The tired droop of the shoulders, the air of discouragement--suddenly
there flashed across Billie's mind a different picture, the picture of a
tall lank man with stooped shoulders and dark, deep-set eyes, looking at
her strangely.

A puzzled little line formed itself across her forehead. Why, she
thought, had Miss Arbuckle made her think of the man who called himself
Hugo Billings and who lived in a hut in the woods?

Perhaps because they both seem