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152
THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS

"Some other time. We have to unpack our dresses, or they'll get wrinkled."

The boys thought lunch time would never pass, but it did, though they made a hasty meal of it. Then they hurried back to the cottage, and a little later four pairs of young persons were strolling in four different directions over the beautiful island.

"Oh, Tom!" exclaimed Ruth. "I've been just wild to get you alone for a moment to ask if you've found out anything about my brooch?"

"Not a thing, Ruth, I'm sorry to say. In fact the whole business is at a standstill. We had some suspicions, but they didn't lead anywhere, and we're up against a stone wall so far in the game."

"Well, perhaps something may develop," she said with a sigh. "I hope so, for I'm afraid every day some of my folks will discover that I'm not wearing the brooch. When I went to bid grandmother good-bye I wore a large bow tie, so she couldn't see the place where the pin ought to have been, but wasn't. Isn't it dreadful to be so deceitful?"

"Not at all," Tom hastened to assure her. "It isn't your fault, and, as you say, something may develope."

They strolled on, as did the others, and the afternoon seemed wonderfully short.