“I think the same thing would apply if she were alive,” said Kirk, sadly. “She could have died in some lonely place, or have fallen into the river, and perhaps nobody would know a thing about it. I watch the papers for accidents to unidentified people, but I have never found any description at all like her.” Although Marjorie had taken practically no part in the conversation, the strain of it all was telling upon her as well as upon the other two. She fidgeted uneasily; the growing darkness, the loneliness, the gloominess of the subject depressed her so that she feared that she too might burst out crying. Kirk noticed her nervousness, and knew that it would be best to talk of something else. Skillfully turning the conversation to scout topics, he drew both girls’ thoughts back to happier channels. He went into details about the radio, making it seem so fascinating that they could hardly wait for their own instrument to arrive. Finally, both Marjorie and Daisy realized that they were sleepy, and that even the prospect of a hard bed did not keep them from looking forward to their night’s rest. “You’re sure they’ll wait for us to go up that mountain tomorrow?” she asked Kirk, as she and Daisy prepared to go into the cabin. “Positive!” replied the young man. “But we must start early in the morning!” “We will!” said Marjorie. “And it’s going to be a glorious day,” added Daisy, gazing in admiration at the stars. CHAPTER XVI. JOHN’S MISSION. It was the first of August, and as yet John Hadley had received no answer to the letter he had written some time ago to Marjorie. He watched anxiously for a letter from her, which would reassure him as the continuation of their friendship. But it did not come. He mentioned the fact to Dorothy Snyder when he next saw her at Cape May. She had advised him to write to Marjorie, and had attributed the girl’s silence to his failure to start the correspondence again; now he was proving that she was wrong. Evidently Marjorie did not care anything about him after all. “She probably has a good many interests,” said Dorothy, consolingly. “She always has a lot of interests,” he admitted, grudgingly. “And probably they’re in the form of young men at the ranch now!” “Not necessarily,” said Dorothy. “Didn’t you say she is a Girl Scout? Well, they always have lots to do. And if she is thinking about graduating, and going to college--” “She did graduate from Miss Allen’s Boarding School this summer,” interrupted John. “And I believe she is planning to go to college in the Fall.” “Miss Allen’s Boarding School!” repeated Dorothy, almost to herself. “Where have I heard of that school before?” “You probably knew somebody who went there,” suggested John, glancing critically at the girl. She seemed exactly the type of young woman that one usually found at Miss Allen’s.