"Well, that's a lot," said Frank soberly. "Just to feel that you girls are backing us up, and that there's somebody who cares whether we give a good account of ourselves or not, makes all the difference in the world." "But that's not all we can do," cried Betty, her eyes shining with the light of resolution. "There's real work enough to keep us busy all day long. Girls, I've got a plan!" "What?" they cried, leaning forward eagerly. "I'm going to join the Red Cross!" CHAPTER IV THE POWDER MILL "Who's game for a paddle?" "I am!" "And I!" "Oh, it's the most wonderful night in the world for canoeing!" "And there's going to be a moon, too!" "Nobody seems to be eager or anything like that," remarked Frank, strolling out on the veranda, and regarding the enthusiastic group with a smile on his lips. "Why didn't you suggest something they might agree to, Allen?" Allen, who had indeed made the suggestion, rose lazily to his feet, and stretched out a hand to Betty. "I never make any suggestions that aren't good," he replied. "Come along, Betty. It's a crime to waste a minute of this wonderful night." "May we, Mrs. Irving?" queried Betty, smiling up at their chaperon, who was the same who had shared their adventures, during that other eventful summer on Pine Island. "You know you love canoeing as much as the rest of us." "Of course we'll all go," Mrs. Irving assented readily. "Only we've had a long day, and mustn't stay out too late." "I speak for Mrs. Irving in my canoe!" called out Betty. "No, mine!" "Ours!" were other cries. Merrily the girls ran into the house to pick up the wraps which were always necessary on the water at night, and in another minute they had rejoined the boys. "Are you glad I enlisted, Betty?" queried Allen, laying a hand on Betty's arm, and holding her back. "Glad?" answered Betty, looking up at him with eyes that shone in the starlight. "Yes, I'm glad that you knew the only right thing to do, and I'm glad that you did it so promptly. But, Allen--" "Yes?" he queried, finding her little hand and holding it tight. "I--I'm like George Washington, I guess," she evaded, looking up at him with a crooked little smile. "I don't want you to tell a lie," he countered very softly. "I want the truth, little Betty. What were you going to say?" Betty's eyes drooped, and they walked along in silence for a minute. "Well?" he queried at last, studying her averted profile. "You're not afraid to tell me, Betty?" "N-no," she answered, still with her head turned away. "I was only going to say, that while I'm glad--oh, very glad in one way, I--I'm not so very glad in another." "What other?" he asked, leaning over her. "Betty, Betty, tell me, dear." Betty hesitated for another moment, then threw up her head defiantly. "Well," she said, "if you must know--I don't want you to go. I--I'll be--lonesome--" "Betty," he cried imploringly, his heart beating like a trip-hammer, "Betty--wait--"