Mr. Towne came up on deck, again faultlessly attired. His unexpected bath had not harmed him, in spite of the fact that it was cold, for he had at once taken warm drinks, and been put to bed, for a time, in hot blankets. He could talk of nothing, however, save the fact that he was to be shown in the wet clothing he so despised. "It is a shame!" he declared. "If I could find that film I would destroy it myself." "It is safely put away," laughed Russ. The day passed, and evening came. On through the darkness forged the _Tarsus_, while about her were the flashing beams from lighthouses, or the bobbing signal lamps from other ships. Ruth and Alice were in their stateroom, talking together before retiring. Alice had that day's paper and was idly glancing over it. She yawned sleepily, when an item suddenly caught her eye. "Oh, dear!" she exclaimed. "That must be dreadful!" "What is it?" asked Ruth, who was letting down her long hair. "Why here's an item from some place in Florida. It says that two girls went out in a motor boat, to gather specimens of rare swamp flowers, and have not been heard of since. It is feared they may have been upset and drowned, or that alligators attacked them. Oh, how dreadful!" "Don't let Mr. Sneed hear about that," cautioned Ruth. "Where in Florida was it?" "The item is dated from Winterhaven, but it says that the girls started from some place near Lake Kissimmee." "Oh!" cried Ruth, pausing with the comb half way through a thick strand of hair, "suppose it should be those two girls we met?" "I don't imagine it could be," reasoned Alice. "They did not look like girls who would be bold enough to go off after swamp blooms. But think of the poor girls, whoever they are, out all alone at night, with maybe alligators around their boat! Oh, I hope we don't have to go too far into the wilds." "We may," remarked Ruth, uneasily, as she reached for the paper to read for herself the disquieting item. CHAPTER IV FIRE ON BOARD Ruth sat for some moments in silence after she had read in the paper the short account of the missing girls. She had come to a pause in arranging her luxuriant hair for the night and, with it only half combed, leaned back in the small chair the stateroom afforded. Alice was reclining on her berth. "Does it worry you, Ruth?" the younger girl finally asked. "A little, yes." Ruth was unusually quiet, and there was a far-away look in her deep blue eyes. "Oh, don't take it so seriously," rallied Alice, in her vivacious way, though at first she, too, had been affected by what she read. "But it is serious." "Oh, it may be only one of those 'newspaper yarns,' as Russ calls them." "Alice, your language, of late--" "There, sister mine! Please don't scold--or lecture. I'm too sleepy," and she finished with a yawn that showed all her white, even teeth. "I'm not scolding, my dear, but you know I must look after you in a way, and--"