"Thank you so much," the stranger was speaking. "But may I rest here for a moment? These children--is it a school." "A queer one, I'm afraid. We're all teachers, all pupils--even the dogs." Mary-Clare looked at her small group. "One has to do something, you know," she said. "Something to help." "Yes. And will you send the children away for a moment? I have something to say to you." Mary-Clare's face went white. Since Maclin's exposure the girl knew a spiritual fear that never before had troubled her. Maclin and Larry! Doubt, uncertainty--they had done their worst for Mary-Clare. When the children were gone the stranger leaned forward and said quietly: "I am Mrs. Dana--I am here on government business. There, my dear Mrs. Rivers, please do not be alarmed--I come as your friend; the friend of King's Forest; it is on the map, you know." The tears stood in Mary-Clare's wide eyes, her lips trembled. "I conscript you!" Mrs. Dana leaned a little further toward Mary-Clare and took her hands. "I was directed to you, Mrs. Rivers. You must help me do away with a wrong impression of the Forest. Together we will tell a story to the outside world that will change a great many things. We will tell the truth and set the Forest free from suspicion." "Oh! can we? Why, that would be the most splendid thing. We're all so--so frightened." "Yes. I know. See, I have my credentials"--Mrs. Dana took a notebook from her bag. "The mines--well, all the danger there is destroyed. The mines are cleaned out." She was reading from her notes. "Yes." Mary-Clare was impressed. "And there's iron on the Point--we must get at that--you own the Point?" "No; I gave it to my husband." The words were whispered. "And he sold it to a Mr. Northrup." There was no holding back in King's Forest these days. "I see. Well, we must get this Mr. Northrup busy, then. Where is he?" Mrs. Dana tucked the book away and her eyes looked kindly into Mary-Clare's. "I do not know. He went to his--to the city--New York." "And you have never heard from him?" "No." "Well, Mrs. Rivers, I am your friend and the friend of the Forest. Together, we ought to be able to do it a good turn. And now, if you are willing, I would love to borrow your little girl." On the lake road Noreen, after a few skirmishes, succumbed to one of her sudden likings--she abandoned herself to Mrs. Dana's charm. With her head coquettishly set slantwise she fixed her grave eyes--they were very like her mother's--on Mrs. Dana's face. "I like the look of you," she confided softly. "I'm glad. I like the look of you very much, little Noreen." "Do you know any stories or songs?" Noreen had her private test. "I used to, but it has been a long while since I thought about them. Do you know any, Noreen?" "Oh! many. My man taught me. He taught me to be unafraid, too." "Your man, little girl?" Mrs. Dana turned her eyes away.