"Look after yourself, my dear. With your hair down that way, and that sweet and innocent look on your face, and in your eyes--you are much more in need of looking after than I. Someone is sure to fall in love with you, and then--" "Alice, if you--" "Don't throw that hair brush at me!" and the younger girl covered herself with a quilt, in simulated fear. "I--I didn't mean it. I'll be good!" and she shook with laughter. Ruth could not but smile, though the serious look did not leave her face. She was very like her father. The least little matter out of the ordinary affected him, and usually on the sad, instead of on the "glad" side. He, like Ruth, was of a romantic type, inclined to anticipate too much. Alice was more matter of fact, not to say frivolous, though she could be very sensible at times. "Well, I suppose we must go to bed," sighed Ruth at length. "But I'm afraid I sha'n't sleep." "On account of thinking of those girls?" "Yes, just imagine them out all alone in some dismal swamp, perhaps, without a light, hungry--afraid of every sound--" "Please stop! You're getting on my nerves." "I didn't mean to, my dear," was the gentle answer. "I know you didn't, and it was mean of me to talk that way," and a plump, bare arm stole around the other's neck, while a hand was run through the golden hair. "But, don't let's think so much about them. Perhaps they are not those two girls we met, after all." "Oh, I don't believe they can be," Ruth agreed. "That would be too much of a coincidence. But they are two girls--" "Not necessarily. Maybe it's only an unfounded rumor. Russ says newspaper men often 'plant' a story like this off in some obscure place, and then use it as the basis for one of those lurid stories in the Sunday supplements. "I shouldn't wonder a bit but what this was one of those cases. So, sister mine, go to sleep in peace, and in the morning you'll have forgotten all about it. Only don't let's tell any one, for some of the company, like Mr. Sneed, might make trouble for Mr. Pertell, saying alligators were there." "Well, there are." "Perhaps. But who cares? I'd like to get one ordinary-sized 'gator." "Why, Alice! What for?" "I've always wanted an alligator bag, and I never could afford it. Now's my chance. But we may never get far enough into the interior for that. By the way, where did it say those girls started from? I didn't half read it." "From Sycamore, near Lake Kissimmee." "Well, Mr. Pertell did mention that we might get to the lake, but he didn't specify Sycamore." "No, and now I'm going to try and do as you said, and forget all about it," and Ruth laid aside the paper and resumed putting up her hair for the night. "I wonder what will happen to-morrow?" mused Alice, as she slipped into her robe, and thrust her feet into bath slippers. "What do you mean?" Ruth's voice was rather muffled, for her hair was over her face now. "I mean Mr. Towne fell in to-day, and--"