“N-no,” answered Harry, “only--” “I know,” laughed the artist. “You haven’t anything to wear. Isn’t that it?” Harry’s silence gave assent. “Well, now, I’d like you to wear just what you’ve got on.” He paused and eyed her critically. “Never mind a hat. I want that glorious hair of yours, Miss Emery. And--let me see--if you have a bit of blue ribbon at home you might just tie it around your waist. What do you say, now? Yes, I hope.” Harry was much too delighted to speak, but the others mistook the emotion. “Oh, go ahead, Harry,” said Roy. “I’d like to see a picture of you.” “Sure,” chimed in Chub. “And maybe if it’s awfully good we’ll buy it for the camp.” “There’ll be refreshments in case you get hungry,” said the artist smilingly. “Let me see, what do young ladies like? Candy, of course, and--hum--pickled limes and gingerbread.” Harry giggled nervously. “I don’t like pickled limes,” she said. “All the better, for I haven’t any. How about gingerbread?” Harry shook her head. “No? Then it will have to be candy. I can manage that, I guess. It’s all settled, then, is it?” “If you want me,” answered Harry shyly. “Of course I do! And what time, now? Morning? Afternoon? Morning would be better for me; the light’s clearer. What do you say to ten to-morrow forenoon, Miss Emery?” Harry nodded. “Very well, and thank you. I’ll expect you then at ten o’clock. If you like you may bring one of these young gentlemen with you, but we don’t want a crowd, do we?” “I guess I’d rather not have any one, if it doesn’t matter,” answered Harry. “Isn’t she tight?” cried Chub. “She’s afraid we’ll get some of the candy! If she backs down, Mr. Cole, I’ll sit for you any time.” “Ho, ho!” laughed the artist. “You like candy, too, do you? Well, there’ll be enough for all. The rest of you can happen around when the sitting’s over.” There was a noise in the woods and Billy Noon appeared and joined the circle around the fire. As he came into the light the artist exclaimed: “Well, well! Where’d you come from, Noon?” Chub turned in time to see Billy press a finger swiftly against his lips. “Eh?” said Mr. Cole. “Oh, yes--er--well, I didn’t expect to come across you up here on this desert island.” The two shook hands, as Billy replied: “Guess I didn’t expect to see you, sir. In your boat, are you?” “Yes, in the old _Jolly Roger_.” [Illustration: “Chub turned in time to see Billy press a finger swiftly against his lips”] “I see,” said Billy as he found a seat. “You’ve changed her name and her paint, haven’t you?” “Oh, plenty of times since you saw her last,” was the reply. “Let’s see, she was the _Ark_, then, wasn’t she?” “No, sir, the _Greased Lightning_.”