please." She took two large squares of white paper out of her bag. "You see, it is this way, Jack: We found that to rent a houseboat takes such a lot of money that we decided yesterday, to try to turn one of these old canal boats into a houseboat, and I have drawn the plans of what I think ought to be done."

Madge, who had a decided talent for drawing, had sat up late into the night to make her two sketches. One pictured the shanty boat as it was, dingy and dirty, with a broken-down cabin of two rooms at the stern. In the second drawing Madge's fairy wand, which was her gift of imagination, had quite transformed the ugly boat. The deck of the canal boat was about forty feet long, with a twelve-foot beam. To the two rooms, which the ordinary shanty boat contains, she had added another two, forming an oblong cabin, with four windows on each side and a flat roof. The flat roof formed the second deck of the prospective houseboat. It had a small railing around it, and a pair of steps that led up from the outside to the upper deck. Madge had decorated her fairy ship with garlands of flowers that hung far over the sides of the deck.

Jack Bolling looked at the drawing a long time without saying a word.

"Don't you think it can be done, Jack?" inquired Madge eagerly. "You see, this old boat could be cleaned and painted, and any good carpenter could put up the extra rooms."

"Right you are, Madge," Jack answered at last, making a low bow. "Hats off to the ladies, as usual. Who is that queer-looking customer coming this way?"

"He is the man who is to see about our canal boat," answered Phil, as though they were already in possession.

Madge had gone forward. "Have you found the boat for us?" she inquired. "I simply can't wait to find out."

The man grinned. "There is one towed alongside of mine that you might be able to git. I had a hard time finding it."

"That is all right," declared Jack, stepping forward, "you will be paid for your work. Will you please take us out to look at the boat?"

"Got to cross my shanty to git to it," the man replied, leading the way across a rickety gang-plank.

There were three or four dirty children playing on the deck of his boat and a thin, yellow dog. At the open door of the shanty kitchen stood the figure of a girl. She had on the faded calico dress of the day before; she was barefooted and her hair was ragged and unkempt. But as Jack Bolling and the four girls glanced idly at her a start of surprise ran through each one of these. Jack stopped for an instant, and instinctively took off his hat. Phil Alden whispered in Madge's ear, "I never saw any one so beautiful in my life," and Madge mutely agreed.

The girl was smiling a wistful, far-away smile that was very touching. Her hair was the color of copper that has been burnished by the sun, and her eyes were the deep blue of the midsummer sky. The wind and sun had tanned the girl's cheeks, but her skin was still fine and delicate. There was a strange, vacant expression in her eyes and a pathetic droop to her whole figure.

"Git you back in there, Moll," the owner of the shanty boat called out roughly. The girl started and quivered, as though she expected a blow. Jack's face turned hot with anger. But what could he do? The man was talking to his own daughter.

"Why did you speak to the poor girl like that?" asked Madge sharply.

"She ain't all right in the top story," the man answered. "She is kind of foolish. I have to keep a close watch on her."

Madge turned pitying eyes on the demented girl, then as they stepped aboard the other canal boat, for the time she forgot the lovely apparition she had just seen.

"How much will the owner rent this boat for?" Madge asked at last, trying hard to conceal her enthusiasm. The boat was dirty and needed renovating, but it was well built of good, strong timbers.

"My friend is willing to sell this here boat for a hundred dollars," said the fisherman, Mike Muldoon, hesitating as he mentioned the sum.

It was all Madge could do to keep from clapping her hands for joy. One hundred dollars for the boat—that left another hundred for painting and remodeling and for other necessary expenses.

Just as Madge was about to close with the man's offer a look from Jack Bolling interrupted her.

"The boat is not worth a hundred dollars," he declared decisively. "The young lady will give you fifty dollars for it, and not a cent more."

The man laughed contemptuously. "I can't do it," he said. "That boat is cheap at a hundred dollars."

"At fifty, you mean," retorted Jack stubbornly.

The girls stood back quietly and allowed Jack to drive the bargain, which he did with so much spirit that the coveted boat was at last made over to him at his price, fifty dollars.

For the rest of the day the four girls spent their time interviewing carpenters and painters. At last they found a man who promised to deliver the boat, rebuilt according to Madge's idea, at a little town several miles farther down the bay. The man owned a motor boat. He was to take the houseboat to a landing, where the girls could load it with the necessary supplies, and then to tow them farther down the bay, until they found the ideal place for their summer holiday.

"I declare, Madge, dear, I was never so tired, nor so happy in my life," declared Eleanor Butler late that afternoon, as the quartette were on their way back to their school at Harborpoint. "I can see our houseboat, now, as plainly as anything. At first, Lillian and I couldn't quite believe in your idea."

Madge had heard Eleanor's comments but vaguely. She was doing a sum in mental arithmetic. "Fifty dollars for the old shanty boat, seventy-five for remodeling it, fifteen to the man for towing." Here she became confused. But she still knew there was quite a large sum of money left for buying the little furniture they needed and their store of provisions.

Phyllis Alden, too, had been busy calculating. "I think we can do it, Madge," she said, leaning over from the back seat to speak to her friend.

"Of course we can. We shall have whole lots of money," announced Madge triumphantly.

Phil shook her head. "I am afraid we won't. There is one thing we must buy that will be expensive."

Lillian straightened up. She had been leaning against the back of the seat, utterly worn out. The three girls gazed at Phil in consternation. What was this new item of expense that threatened to eat up their little capital?

"Don't keep us in suspense, Phil," laughed Eleanor. "What have we forgotten to buy?"

"A kitchen stove!" cried Phil dramatically. "And I know they must be awfully expensive."

"What a goose you are, Phil," said Lillian in a practical tone. "We don't want a kitchen stove. It would take up too much room. We need an oil stove or something like that."

"Then I appoint you as a special committee to look into the stove question, Lillian," laughed Madge.

"I accept the appointment," bowed Lillian, "and I won't waste our capital on kitchen ranges of elephantine proportions, either."

During the next five days the four friends found plenty to occupy their time. Then Miss Tolliver's school closed, and Phil Alden hurried home to her family in Hartford, Connecticut; Lillian returned to her home in Philadelphia, while Madge and Eleanor departed to spend a week with Mr. and Mrs. Butler in their old home in Virginia. Miss Jones, however, remained at the school. She made one hurried trip into Baltimore, and on another occasion had a visitor, but the rest of the time she sewed industriously; for on June the eighth a new experience was to be hers—she was to begin her duties as chaperon to four adventurous girls aboard their longed-for "Ship of Dreams."

CHAPTER V

ALL ABOARD

Blue waves lapped idly against the sides of a little, white palace that had risen out of the waves of the bay overnight. One