in this direction.” And she led the way into the woods, the girls following dispiritedly.

And while the three chums are searching for the path, the opportunity will be taken to recount to new readers some of the adventures and queer experiences the girls had had up to the present time.

In the first book of this series, entitled, “Billie Bradley and Her Inheritance,” Billie had been left an old homestead at Cherry Corners in the upper part of New York State. The strange legacy had come to Billie from an eccentric aunt, Beatrice Powerson, for whom Billie had been named. For Billie’s real name was not Billie at all, but Beatrice.

It will be remembered that the girls had decided to spend their vacation there, and that the boys, Billie’s brother Chetwood, Laura’s brother Teddy, and another boy, Ferd Stowing, had joined them there and that queer and exciting adventures had followed.

The most wonderful thing of all had been the finding of the shabby old trunk in the attic whose contents of rare old coins and postage stamps had brought Billie in nearly five thousand dollars in cash. The money had enabled Billie to replace a statue which she had accidentally broken a little while before and had also given her the chance to go to Three Towers Hall, a good boarding school, and Chet the opportunity to go to the Boxton Military Academy, which was only a little over a mile from Three Towers Hall.

The good times the girls had at school—and some bad times, too—have been told of in the second book of the series, called, “Billie Bradley at Three Towers Hall.”

In North Bend, where the girls had always lived, there lived also two other girls, Amanda Peabody and Eliza Dilks. These girls were sneaks and tattletales of the worst order and were thoroughly disliked by all the girls and boys with whom they had come in contact.

When the chums had heard that Amanda was to accompany them to Three Towers they were absolutely dismayed, for they expected that she would spoil all the fun. Amanda had done her best to live up to the expectations of the girls, but try as she would, she had not been able to spoil entirely the fun. And this very failure had, of course, made her and her chum, Eliza Dilks, furious.

Both Three Towers Hall and Boxton Military Academy had been built on the banks of the beautiful Lake Molata, and the girls and boys had spent many happy hours rowing upon the lake in the fall and skating upon it in the winter.

But the most amazing thing that had happened to them at Three Towers had been the capture of the man the girls called “The Codfish.” This rascal had attempted to steal Billie’s precious trunk in the beginning, but Billie and the boys had given chase in an automobile and had succeeded in recovering the trunk. They had also succeeded in getting a good look at the man, whose hair was red, eyes little and close together, mouth wide and loose-lipped. It was this last feature that had given the thief his name with the boys and girls. For the mouth certainly resembled that of a codfish.

Later the “Codfish” had turned up again near Three Towers Hall, had robbed one of the teachers of her purse when she was returning from town, and had later succeeded in making off with a great many valuables from Boxton Military Academy.

The girls never forgot how, with the aid of the boys, they had captured the Codfish and turned him over to the police. Though, as Laura said, the thief had been in jail for some time, the chums had never stopped thinking and wondering about him. But never before had the possibility of his escaping been thought of.

But now, as they made their way through the forest that was growing darker and darker, they could not shake off the thought of him.

They glanced often and uneasily into the shadowy woodland and drew closer together as if for protection. The rain was beginning to come a little faster now, and their clothes felt damp. Even Billie’s courage was beginning to fail.

Suddenly Laura stopped stock still and looked at them impatiently.

“There’s not a bit of use our going on like this,” she said. “For all we know we may be getting farther away from the path every minute.”

“And my feet hurt,” added Vi pathetically.

Suddenly Billie called to them. She had gone on a little ahead and, peering through the dusk, had seen the outline of something dark, a black smudge against the gray of the woods.

“Girls, come here quick!” she cried, and half-fearing, half-hoping, they knew not what, the others ran to her.

“What is it?” Laura cried.

For answer Billie pointed through the gloom.

“There! See it?” she cried excitedly. “It’s some sort of little house, I guess—a hut or something.”

“A house!” cried Laura joyfully. “Glory be, let’s go! What’s the matter?” she asked, as the other girls hung back.

“Better not be in too much of a hurry,” Billie cautioned her. “The place looks as if it were empty; but you never can tell.”

“Well, there’s something I can tell,” Laura retorted impatiently. “And that is, that I’m getting soaking wet.” She started on again, but Billie called to her to stop.

“Don’t be crazy, Laura,” she whispered. “We’re all alone in the woods, and it’s almost night. How do we know who may be in that shack?”

“Oh, Billie, suppose it were the Codfish!” whispered Vi, and Laura looked disgusted.

“It isn’t apt to be the Codfish,” returned Billie. “But whoever it is, I think we’d better be careful. We’ll go up to it softly and look about a bit. Please don’t any one speak until we’re sure it’s all right.”

The girls were used to obeying Billie, even impulsive Laura, so now they followed softly at her heels, stepping over twigs so as to make no noise.

“Goodness! anybody would think we were thieves ourselves,” Laura giggled hysterically, and Billie looked back at her warningly.

It was a strange thing and strangely made, this remote little shelter in the woods. It probably had some sort of framework of wood inside, but all the girls could see from the outside was a rude structure entirely covered by moss and interwoven twigs. In fact, unless one looked closely, one might think that the little hut was no hut at all, but part of the foliage itself.

The girls could find no windows, but as they moved cautiously around the hut Billie came upon a small door. The latter was hardly more than four feet high, and the girls would have to stoop considerably to get through it.

“For goodness sake, open it, Billie,” Laura whispered close in her ear. “It’s beginning to pour pitchforks and I’m getting soaking wet. I don’t care if a hyena lives in there, I’m going in too.”

Billie wanted to laugh, but she was too wet and nervous. So she opened the little door cautiously and peered inside.

For a minute she could not tell whether the hut was empty or not, for it was very very dark. But as her eyes became accustomed to the darkness she felt sure that the place was empty.

“Come on,” she called over her shoulder to the girls, her voice still cautiously lowered. “I can’t see very well, but I guess there’s nobody at home.”

The girls had to stoop almost double to enter the tiny door, but once inside they were surprised to find that they could stand upright.

They were in almost entire darkness, the only patch of light