'Hulloa, Marjorie,' said Allan; 'glad you've come. This is Harry Graham, and this is Gerald.' Marjorie looked at the new-comers with approval, and Hamish shook hands good-naturedly. 'Are we going to fish all afternoon,' said Marjorie, 'or shall we take a scramble?' 'A scramble,' replied Reggie; 'they want to see the rocks.' 'If Gerald isn't too tired,' put in Tricksy considerately; 'he was asleep a minute ago.' 'No,' protested Gerald, flushing and looking very much vexed; 'I wasn't. I'm quite ready for a walk.' 'Suppose we take them to the Smugglers' Caves,' suggested Marjorie. 'They're the finest sight in the island, I think.' At the mention of smugglers Harry's eyes began to sparkle, and Gerald's blue ones opened very wide. 'Are there--are there any smugglers there now?' asked Harry. 'Sometimes there are,' replied Marjorie, 'but I don't expect we shall meet any. Smuggling isn't what it used to be,' she added somewhat regretfully. 'What luck if we could only come across some,' said Harry. 'Let's go and see the caves anyhow.' 'It's a long walk, across moors and bogs, and steep hills,' said Marjorie; 'but if you're game, come along.' Harry, walking beside Reggie, looked at the girl's slight, erect figure as she went in front with Gerald. 'Does she always do what you fellows do?' he inquired, rather doubtfully. 'Of course she does,' replied Reggie; 'she's fifteen years old, you know; a year older than Allan.' Harry looked at her again, and considered. 'Bit of a tomboy, isn't she?' he inquired again. 'An awful tomboy. We've got her into the way of doing all kinds of things. She couldn't be much jollier if she was a boy.' Harry took another look at her. 'Has she a bit of a temper?' he asked unexpectedly. 'A bit,' acknowledged Reggie, somewhat disconcerted, 'when she's roused, you know. She's fond of her own way; and she and Allan used to quarrel a good deal at one time; but they seem to have made it up now.' Reggie added to himself that there was no time to quarrel, now that every one's thoughts were occupied with Neil. Harry looked at Marjorie again. 'Does she ever quarrel with you?' he asked. 'N--no, not much,' he replied, his face darkening slightly. Harry looked at Marjorie's tall young figure, and then at Reggie's smaller and slighter one, and arrived at the conclusion which particularly annoyed Reggie; that the girl disdained to quarrel with a boy so much younger than herself. Marjorie turned her bright face towards them. 'Find it tiring, walking on the heather?' she said. 'It's very fatiguing when you're not accustomed to it. We might take a rest after we've climbed this hill; there's a beautiful view from the top.' It was a steep climb, and when they reached the summit, all the young folk were glad to fling themselves down on the short, fragrant heather.