“Hush!” said Mr. Hilton. “We must begin to make arrangements for our party. There are twenty-three of us, and places for ten in the canoes. I’ll put some marks on papers, and everybody except our family can draw to find out the name of their row-boat or canoe.” Everyone seemed pleased with this idea except Marjorie, Alice and Irene. Marjorie and Alice were each afraid that their lot might be cast with Kirk Smith, and Irene was afraid that hers would not. As luck had it, Marjorie drew the unpopular man. Irene, on the other hand, was coupled with Clayton Jones, one of the Academy boys. Marjorie frowned when the announcement was made, and Irene looked tremendously disappointed. But neither girl said anything; each started for her own cabin. “Poor Marj!” sympathized Alice, as she took the girl’s arm; “I’m glad I’m not in your boots!” “It is hard luck,” said Marjorie. “But then, somebody had to draw him. And I guess any of the girls would have been peeved.” “Don’t forget Irene Judson!” said Alice. “She would probably have been tickled to death.” The idea brought Marjorie an inspiration: why should she not exchange places with Irene, if it could be managed, and if the girl were willing? She did not remember with whom the other girl was coupled, but she knew she would prefer anyone else on the ranch to Kirk. Accordingly she watched for her opportunity, and slipped over to Irene’s cabin. Luckily she found the girl alone, but in low spirits. She was sitting on her cot, looking most dejected, and making no attempt to dress. She raised her head as Marjorie entered, wondering resentfully what had brought her there. But before her visitor had a chance to state her errand, she gave vent to her own feelings. “You certainly are lucky!” she exclaimed, petulantly. “I don’t think it’s fair! But if you’re mean enough to make a date with him to come home--” Although she was amazed at the girl’s words and manner, Marjorie was delighted to learn so quickly that Irene would probably fall in with her plans. She therefore hastened to put the proposition before her, choosing to ignore the remark she had made. “I came over, Irene,” she said, quietly, “to ask you whether you would be willing to change partners with me, if it could be managed. I don’t know whom you are going with, but--” “One of those Academy babies!” interrupted the other girl. “Clayton Jones! I don’t suppose you’d exactly enjoy his company.” “I’d much prefer it to Kirk’s,” Marjorie assured her. Irene sat up straight at these words, hardly able to believe that she had heard correctly. It seemed incredible to her that any normal girl could prefer the society of a boy like Clayton Jones to that of such a distinguished-looking young man. “Do you really mean it?” she cried. “You will actually swap?” “I’d love to. Now--as to the method. Suppose I go down to the stream early, and run off with Clayton. Then you’ll simply have to go with Kirk because there won’t be any other place!”