to the "inseparables," as they were often called, my former readers will recall Will Ford, the brother of Grace; his chum, Frank Haley, and another friend, Allen Washburn, now a young lawyer, with whom Betty—but there, why should I give away Betty's little secret?

Quite in contrast to these boys was Percy Falconer, a rather foppish lad, who greatly admired Betty—as who did not? But as for Percy—Betty did not care for him in the least. She was too fine a character to permit herself to be really angry at him, but Betty and Percy never could get along well.

"Dear Deepdale," as the girls alliteratively referred to it, was a charming country town, nestling in a bend of the Argono River, which, some miles below the village, widened out into Rainbow Lake. It was on this lake that the girls had cruised, and had such fun, and Betty's boat was now docked in the new house constructed for it near Mollie's home. The girls lived within short distance of one another, and were continually visiting, or calling back and forth. Where you found one you would find the others, and their parents used to say they never knew when to expect their daughters home to meals—for they were like one family in respect to dining out.

And, as usual, this beautiful summer day found the girls together in the auto, when the accident had thrown them into such consternation.

"Did you find any water?" called Betty, who had made a pillow of the lap robe, and supported on it the head of the unconscious girl.

"Yes," answered Mollie, her hand trembling as she extended a collapsible cup of the fluid she had dipped from a nearby spring, "I'll get more when she takes that."

"I'm afraid I can't get her to take much of it," said Betty. "But I can bathe the cut and see how large it is."

She tried to get a little water between the lips of the strange girl, while Amy and Grace held her head up; Mollie, with another cup provided by Betty, going off after more water.

"She took a little," whispered Grace.

The girl turned her head to one side as though to avoid drinking. Then she muttered a few words.

"What did she say?" asked Amy.

"I couldn't understand it," answered Betty.

Again the stranger murmured something, and this time the girls caught:

"No, no! I will not go back to him! Anything but the life I have been leading. Oh, why must I do it? Why?"

There was pathetic pleading in the words.

"There, my dear, you will be taken care of," spoke Betty, soothingly. "We will take you to your friends."

"I—I have none! Oh, I can't go back to—him!"

Her eyes did not open, and she appeared to be in a delirium.

"Poor thing!" said Amy, softly. "Bathe her head, Betty."

"Yes, I think that will be better than trying to force her to drink." Dipping her handkerchief in the water Betty wiped away the blood from the cut. It was seen to be a small one.

"That ought not to make her unconscious," said Betty. "More likely she has some additional injury; possibly a blow on some other part of her head. Girls, did you ever see such glorious hair!" Betty caressed it. Truly there was a mass of it, and it was of beautiful silkness and softness. It was still partly bound up, but the autoists could easily tell that it must reach almost to the ground when the girl stood up.

"What in the world could she have been doing up the tree?" asked Grace, as Mollie came back with more water.

"It is the oddest thing," agreed Betty, bathing the stranger's face and wrists.

"Are you sure we didn't hit her with the auto?" asked Mollie, tremblingly.

"I am almost sure you did not," spoke Betty, positively. "As she started to fall you steered out. She just toppled to the ground. See, there is not a mark of dust on her dress, as there would be if the tires had struck her."

"Yes, but perhaps the mud guard, or——"

"But her dress isn't torn or much disarranged. No, Mollie, the auto never struck her, of that I'm sure. But possibly she fell on her head, and the blow and shock stunned her. Oh, we must get her to a doctor!

"Come, girls," went on Betty, "we can lift her into the auto, I'm sure, and take her to the nearest house. Then we'll go for a physician."

"Try to arouse her, first," suggested Mollie. "I can't bear to see her—this way."

Betty used more water, and succeeded in getting some between the pale lips of the girl, but to no purpose. She was limp and half senseless, though she continued to moan and talk incoherently. Then the four girls picked her up and carried her toward the stalled automobile.

CHAPTER III

STRANGELY MISSING

"Wait a minute," directed Betty, as she and her chums advanced, carrying the unconscious girl. "We'll have to put her down here, where the grass is soft."

"Why?" asked Amy, "she isn't heavy."

"No, but it will be better to get the auto out of the bushes, and into the road before we put her in it. Something might go wrong, and jolt her."

"That's so," agreed Mollie. "I think I can do it. Oh, but I'm nervous!"

"Shame on you!" cried Betty. "Be an outdoor girl—be your own brave self, Mollie!"

"I will!" and there was determination in her voice. "I'm sure I can get the car out all right!"

Mollie took her place at the wheel, pressed the starting button, and then, with a glance backward to see which way to steer, she slipped in the reverse gear, and let the clutch come into place. Slowly, amid a tearing away of vines and bushes, the car regained the highway.

"Good!" cried Grace. "Now, how shall we put her in, Betty?" for the "Little Captain," as she was often called (as Mollie was called "Billy") was generally looked to for advice in emergencies like these.

"You and Amy must hold her between you on the rear seat," Betty directed. "Support her all you can. Mollie will drive slowly."

"But perhaps we ought to get her to a doctor right away," spoke the owner of the car.

"Getting her to a doctor would not make up for any injury caused by a jolt," said practical Betty. "Besides, I do not think she can be seriously hurt. Her hair is so very thick that she could stand a very hard blow on the head. There are no other signs of injuries; but of course there may be internal hurts. She did not fall far, those branches were very close to the ground."

"What she can have been doing up the tree is a mystery," remarked Grace.

"Like the time when we found that five hundred dollar bill," added Mollie.

"And the 'ghost' of Elm Island, and the missing papers in the saddle bags," remarked Amy to Grace.

Mollie had brought her car to a stop, and alighted to help lift in the unconscious girl. Between them Amy and Grace held her in the tonneau, her head resting on Amy's shoulder, a damp handkerchief covering the cut to keep any dirt from getting in it. Mollie again took her place at the steering wheel, and when Betty had gotten in the girls started off with their strange passenger.

"I couldn't imagine what it was, when I saw something white falling out of the tree," spoke Mollie, driving along on high gear, but with the motor well throttled down.

"Nor could I," added Betty. "And when you steered out so suddenly, I thought surely we would crash into the stone fence, just beyond the bushes."

"So did I, but I knew there was only one thing to do, and that