In spite of all the excitement, it was good to be home again. It was wonderful, thought Marjorie, and some of the others who went with her, to get up early in the morning and help bring the horses in; to have the free and easy companionship of these friendly people all day long; to go on beautiful rides, and see the mountains in all their glory; and, at the close of the day, to join in the games on the porch; or, later, to go for a stroll in the moonlight. It was only when the mail came in that Marjorie and Daisy felt a tinge of unhappiness. Unconsciously, all the girls expected that in some way the mystery about Daisy’s sister would be solved, and that the news of it would come by letter. Unless, as Alice kept reminding them, they, the Girl Scouts, should have a hand in unravelling it. If only they might, Marjorie felt that it would be the crowning good turn to the troop’s history. Marjorie felt disconcerted, too, that she had heard nothing from John Hadley. No doubt it was her own fault; the young man had written courteously to her mother after the week-end at the seashore, and probably expected her to regard that as a letter to herself. She admitted that she missed him, but she could not make up her mind to write immediately. When the first Sunday of the scouts’ visit arrived, Mr. Hilton announced that there would be no riding; but instead the whole party would go in boats or canoes up the modest little stream not far from the ranch, and have dinner and supper out-doors. “A canoe trip!” cried Marjorie, her mind turning immediately to the memories of the scouts’ own canoe trip two years previous. “How wonderful!” “Don’t you wish you had _The Scout_ here, Marj?” asked Lily, referring to the first prize that had been awarded to Pansy troop, and which had been won by Marjorie. “Indeed I do!” replied the girl, heartily. “But I’m sorry to have to tell you that it won’t be a canoe trip for everybody,” said Mr. Hilton. “Unfortunately we have only five small canoes, and the rest of the party will therefore have to go in row-boats.” “Is everybody going?” asked Bob. “Naturally,” replied Kirk, in a matter-of-fact tone. “So you think you’re everybody!” remarked Alice, turning to the young man. “Kirk’s right,” explained Bob. “Everybody else always goes to everything, so if he decides to join the party, he knows everybody will be there. But I say, Art, it’s pretty tough about ‘the rest’ going in row-boats. I bet I know who the rest are!” “Oh, it’s always punk to be the rancher’s son,” said Arthur, carelessly. “You just have to lose out on everything, whether it’s a matter of canoes, or pies, or girls--” “Thank you!” interrupted Ethel. “Suppose we cancel that date for a walk tonight!” “Now Ethel!” pleaded Arthur. “My one stroke of luck--”