"What have I done?" he queried pathetically. "It's one of the prettiest backs I ever saw, but that's no reason why I should have to look at it all the time. Besides, you seem to forget that I have a sore shoulder." Betty turned to him swiftly, half laughing and half grave. "I never know when to believe you," she said, coming toward him slowly and moving a chair up to the edge of the bed. "You see, that's the worst of having a bad reputation." "I haven't," he denied stoutly, feeling for her hand, which, however, persisted in evading his. "I've never said anything to you, Betty Nelson, that wasn't true. If you'll give me your hand, my shoulder will stop aching." Betty laughed whimsically. "And you said you never had told me anything that wasn't true," she reminded him. "I repeat it," he answered doggedly, succeeding at last in finding her hand, and holding it tight. "Just being near you makes me so happy, I haven't time to think of pain." "D--did you hear all the noise just a little while ago?" stammered Betty hastily. "You must have wondered what it was all about." "I did," he replied, still with his eyes on her face. "I started to get out of bed and see for myself, only I found I was kind of wabbly, and thought better of it. What--" "Oh, Betty!" Mollie flung wide the door and burst in upon them. "Excuse me, but I had to tell you. What do you suppose has happened now?" She sank down on the edge of the bed, and looked at them despairingly. "Well, what?" asked Betty impatiently. "Has anybody else been shot or--" "Goodness, it's worse than that!" cried Mollie hysterically. "You know, we've never bothered to lock up our good things, because there never seemed any danger at all of robbery on Pine Island--" "Yes, yes," cried Betty, fairly wild with impatience. "I know all that. Tell me, what happened?" "Well," said Mollie, refusing to be hurried, "we thought of our jewelry, looked for it--and it was----" "Gone!" cried Betty, reading the answer in Mollie's face. "Oh, Mollie, my pin and my bracelet----" "Yes, and my gold watch, and Grace's pearl lavallière, and goodness knows how many other things," Mollie finished, in the calmness of despair. "And of course, it was that spy that did it!" cried Betty. "Now, we've got to catch him!" CHAPTER VIII THE BIG GAME Betty opened her eyes slowly, and blinked at the sunlight that flooded the room. She had a vague sort of idea that something unusual was going to happen, but was too lazy and comfortable to realize just what that something was. Then suddenly it came to her, and she sat up in bed with a start. They were going home! That was the big event; and somehow, she did not feel as sorry as she usually did at the end of a vacation. In fact, she was almost eager to leave this island, with its powder mills and spies that shot boys you liked, and robbed you in the bargain--quite eager to drop play, and do her bit for the country she loved.