It was perhaps a week after this that the party with the exception of Mrs. Pennybacker started off for a two days' trip up to the "Soo," as the interesting little town of Sault Sainte Marie, with its rapids and its great ship canal, is called. They went off in high spirits, and a little later Mrs. Pennybacker saw their handkerchiefs waving to her from the little steamer, _John A. Paxton_. Indeed, Margaret had seemed like another person after learning that Smeltzer was on his way to Chicago. That proved to her that he was not looking for her, or that he had given up the search in this part of the country at any rate. There was probably no safer place for them anywhere now than right here. The boat was almost ready to start when they reached it, and they lost no time in securing good places on the landward side of the stern where they could see all that was to be seen of the receding island. This took them away from the dock side, to Philip's great distress, and Margaret said at last, "Go over to that side where you can watch them if you want to." Philip joyfully obeyed, and from the deck looked down with a child's interest on the moving life below. This was immensely more interesting to him than any view of land or sea could be. He was not alone in the feeling. A man below who was evidently not a dock hand stood idly scanning the people on deck. A little child with long curls and a girl's hat and dress leaned over the railing. The man had formed the habit of noticing children, a very pleasant habit in any one, but somewhat unusual in a man of his type. "Hello, little girl," he called up. Philip ignored the friendly greeting. The situation was very cruel. It was bad enough to have to wear these detestable girl's clothes, but to be taunted with femininity by a person he had never in his life seen before--this was rather too much. His mother had cautioned him never to speak to strangers and never upon any account to disclose the secret of his sex--but his mother was now at the other side of the boat and he felt sure he was leaving this man for good. The _John A. Paxton_ was even now drawing in her cable. He looked around him, dropped his voice to a safe pitch, and announced defiantly as the boat pulled off, "I isn't any girl! I'm a boy!" "The--devil you are!" the man said, whistling softly, and swung himself over the low rail. The marine view with Mackinac receding in the west is not so beautiful as the approach from the other side, but it was attractive enough to enlist the close attention of our party as long as there was a green shore in sight. "Upon my word," said Harcourt at last, looking off to the north, "there is the light-house that tells us we will soon be at our first stopping-place. I'll go down and see what the chances are for dinner." He came back in a few moments and drew his chair close to Margaret.