kept the experiments to himself and hid all the data where it would never be found.” Anne laughed shortly. “Well, he did a good job of it! I’ve searched this house high and low and can’t find a trace of it.”

“You’re certain the formula is valuable?”

“I’m sure of it.” Anne arose and moved to the desk, returning with a letter which she dropped into Madge’s lap. “Last week this came from the Alton Chemical Company—one of the firms Father negotiated with. You see the letter is signed by the president of the firm—G. H. Brownell—and he says he is coming here soon to see me about the formula. If only I had it! I’m sure he would pay me a good figure for it. What became of the thing?”

“Ask me something easy. You searched the laboratory I suppose?”

“A dozen times. I haven’t given up though. I know I’ll find it somewhere and I intend to stay here until I do.”

“I wish I could help,” Madge returned. “Aunt Maude says I have a talent for finding lost things. She always calls on me when anything is missing.”

“Then consider that I’m calling on you now. We might start turning the house upside down this minute!”

Madge’s eye had fallen upon the clock and she sprang to her feet with an exclamation of dismay.

“The search must wait until another day. Goodness! That clock must have skipped an hour or so! Aunt Maude will think I drowned in the lake. I must run. Mind if I wear your dress?”

“Of course not. It’s only an old rag.”

At the door, Madge hesitated.

“See here,” she said bluntly, “my aunt will be put out because you feel you can’t stay at the lodge. If anything should go wrong here—”

“Nothing will.”

“You can’t be certain, Anne. If you need help at any time or want to talk with me, fly a white flag from the boat landing. I’ll see it from the lodge if the day is clear and come as fast as I can.”

“All right,” Anne agreed, “I have an old white skirt I can use.”

She accompanied Madge to the beach, helping her launch the skiff. The rain had ceased falling and the sky was slowly clearing. Before saying goodbye, Madge promised Anne that she would have Old Bill search for the overturned canoe. Anne thanked her again for her kindness, urging her to return soon.

“Don’t forget,” she called, as her friend floated slowly away from the beach.

“I’ll be likely to forget!” Madge chuckled softly to herself. “Even if I didn’t like Anne, that missing formula would be sufficient bait! This has been an exciting day and unless I miss my guess the fun is only starting!”

CHAPTER III
A Puzzling Letter

Although the sky had cleared, evening shadows were creeping over the lake. Madge rowed steadily, knowing that soon it would be dark. She wondered if her long absence from home had caused worry and was not greatly surprised when she sighted another boat on the lake.

“It’s Uncle George and Old Bill,” she decided. “They’re out looking for me.”

She waved her hand to assure them she was quite safe and in a few minutes, Old Bill, with a skillful sweep of the oars, brought the boat alongside the skiff.

“It’s time you’re getting back, young lady!” Mr. Brady called out with kindly gruffness. “Another ten minutes and we’d have been dragging the lake.”

“Sorry,” Madge laughed. “I thought you had more confidence in my ability to handle a boat.”

“If you give me another scare like this, I’ll wish I’d never brought you up here.”

Madge did not take Mr. Brady’s brusque manner seriously for she knew that it masked a kindly heart. He really had worried about her and blamed himself for permitting her to start out ahead of the storm.

“I told Mr. Brady you knowed how to look arfter yourself,” Old Bill broke in, his leathery face wrinkling into a multitude of tiny folds. “I knowed this storm would pass over quick—seen a lot of ’em in my day, I have. I kin remember when I was workin’ on the Great Lakes—”

“Never mind!” Mr. Brady interrupted. “Tell us another time!”

“Yes, sir.” The old boatman subsided into injured silence.

Old Bill loved to spin yarns—that was his particular failing. He was an inaccurate encyclopaedia of everything that went on, but only Madge, who thought him amusing, ever cared to listen.

He could relate the most fantastic tales of his adventures at Hudson Bay and various lumber camps. He had served as sailor on the Great Lakes and as guide to aspiring amateur fishermen who invaded Ontario, yet his real experiences were as nothing compared to those of his fertile imagination. His shack back of the Brady lodge was cluttered with melodramatic magazines which he read by the hour. He did as little work as possible about the lodge, yet if a task struck his fancy, glorified it until it became a task of gigantic importance.

“Your Aunt has been worrying,” Mr. Brady told Madge. “What kept you so long?”

Madge explained that among other things she had jumped into the lake and wound up the tale of her adventure by mentioning the overturned canoe which had not been recovered.

“You go on home,” Mr. Brady directed. “Bill and I will see if we can pick it up.”

Before continuing toward the lodge, Madge pointed out the general locality where she thought the canoe might be found. When she pulled up to the boat landing a few minutes later, Mrs. Brady, who had been anxiously watching from the veranda, rushed down to meet her.

“I’m glad you’re safe!” she exclaimed in relief. “I was so worried when the storm came up so quickly. Why, you’ve changed your dress! What happened and where is Anne?”

Madge repeated the story of her adventure, explaining that Anne did not wish to leave the island. After a slight hesitation, she related all that she had learned concerning the strange formula of Mr. Fairaday’s. Mrs. Brady was astonished to hear that his fortunes had dwindled, but to Madge’s disappointment she did not appear greatly impressed with the story of the formula.

“It sounds like one of Bill’s yarns to me,” she laughed. “Whoever heard of a chemical preparation to keep things from rusting? If you find the formula, Madge, I want you to fix me up a solution for the kitchen pump! And for that rake your uncle left out in the rain!”

“It does sound fantastic, I admit, but somehow, I think there’s something to the story. I do know that scientists have been trying for years to find a paint that will prevent rust. Why, it would mean a fortune to the person who discovered the secret.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Mrs. Brady returned mildly. “I had no intention of trying to discourage you. By all means help Anne look for the missing paper or whatever it is, but don’t build your hopes too high. It’s very likely the formula never existed save in old Mr. Fairaday’s mind. I’ve heard it said that he was a queer man.”

Madge dropped the subject but that was not the last of it. When Mr. Brady and Old Bill returned a half hour later with Anne’s canoe in tow, Mrs. Brady repeated the story for their benefit and at the supper table Madge was subjected to a great deal of goodnatured teasing.

“Just wait!” she retorted. “Anne and I may show you a thing or two about formulas! If we find it, the laugh will be on you!”

She fully intended to return to Stewart Island the following day, but when she awoke the next morning it was to find that a drizzling rain had set in. Everyone stayed close in except Old Bill who was forced