“So’s mine.”  And together they “beautified.”

Ruth and Alice were among the first to go down to the parlor to await the ringing of the dinner gong.  They strolled up to the desk, to ask the clerk if there was any mail for them, since word had been left at the hotel in St. Augustine to forward any letters.

“Oh, you are with the moving picture company; aren’t you?” the clerk asked, as he gave them each a letter.  They were from acquaintances they had made at the hotel.

“Yes, we’re with the ‘movies,’” admitted Alice.

“Going to make all your pictures around here?”

“Not all.  We are booked to go into the interior, I believe.  Pleasant prospect; isn’t it?” she asked with a frank laugh.

“Well, no, I wouldn’t say it was,” answered the clerk, and he spoke as though Alice had meant to be serious.  “In fact, if I were you I wouldn’t try to go into the interior around here.”

“Why not?” asked Ruth.

“Because it was from here the two girls started out into the wilds to gather rare flowers, and they have not since been heard from!”

CHAPTER XIII

OUT IN THE BOAT

Ruth and Alice looked at each other.  It seemed almost impossible that there could be this confirmation of the news item they had read, and so soon after arriving at the hotel.  Yet such was the fact.

“Does any one know what has become of them?” asked Alice, after a pause.

“Not the least trace of them has been found,” replied the clerk.

“Have they made any search for them?” inquired Ruth, looking over her shoulder almost apprehensively, as though she, herself, were out in some swamp, surrounded by perils of all sorts.  But only the lighted parlor met her gaze.

“Search!  Indeed they have!” cried the hotel man.  “The parents of the girls have sent out party after party.”

“With no result?” asked Alice, softly.

“Well, they found traces where the girls had evidently landed, but that was all.  They seemed to have gone deeper and deeper into the swamp.”

“How long ago was it?” Ruth wanted to know.

“Several weeks, now.  It is almost impossible that the girls are alive, though they took a quantity of provisions with them, as they expected to be gone several days.”

“The poor things!” murmured Ruth.  “Tell us more about them.  Who are they?”

“Mabel and Helen Madison,” was the answer.

Ruth and Alice cried out in surprise.

“Those girls!” voiced Alice.

“The ones we met in the train,” added Ruth.  “It seems incredible!”

“Did you know them?” asked the clerk, for the remarks and demeanor of Ruth and Alice were too marked to pass over without comment.

“We did not exactly know them,” replied Ruth, slowly.  “We met them in the train when we were going to the New England backwoods to get moving pictures last winter.  One of them had a headache—­I think it was Helen.”