As she stood gazing, half lost in dreams, she saw a canoe shoot out from the opposite shore some distance up the river and come toward Keewaydin, keeping in the shadows along the shore.  Just before it reached camp it drew in and discharged a passenger, which Agony could see was a girl.  Then the canoe put off again, and as it crossed a moonlit place Agony saw that it was painted bright red, the color of the canoes belonging to the Boy’s Camp located about a half mile down the river.  Agony realized what the presence of that canoe meant.  One of the girls of Keewaydin had been out canoeing on the sly with some boy from Camp Alamont—­a thing forbidden in the Keewaydin code—­and was being brought back in this surreptitious manner.  Who could the girl be?  Agony grimaced with disgust.  She waited quietly there in the path where the girl, whoever she was, must pass in order to go up to her tent.  In a few moments the girl came along and nearly stumbled over her in the darkness, crying out in alarm at the unexpected encounter.  Agony’s swiftly adjusted flashlight fell upon the heavy features and unpleasant eyes of Jane Pratt.

“O Jane,” cried Agony, “you haven’t been over at that boys’ camp, have you?  You surely know it’s forbidden—­Dr. Grayson said so distinctly when he read the camp rules.”

“Well, what if I have?” Jane demanded in a tone of asperity.  “Dr. Grayson makes a lot of rules that are too silly for words.  I have a friend over at Camp Altamont that I’ve known for years and if I choose to go canoeing with him on such a gorgeous night instead of going to bed at nine o’clock like a baby it’s nobody’s business.  By the way, what are you doing here?” she demanded suspiciously.  “Why aren’t you in bed with the rest of the infants?”

“I came out to get my hat,” replied Agony simply.

“Strange thing that your hat should get lost just in the spot where I happen to come ashore,” remarked Jane sarcastically.  “How long have you been spying upon my movements, Miss Virtue?”

“I haven’t been spying on you,” declared Agony hotly.  “I hadn’t any idea you were out.  To tell the truth, I never missed you this evening when we were on the river.”

“Well, I suppose you’ll pull Mrs. Grayson out of her bed now to tell her the scandal about Jane Pratt,” continued Jane bitingly, “and tomorrow morning at five o’clock there’ll be another departure from camp.”

“O Jane!” cried Agony, in distress.  “Will she really send you home?”

“She really will,” mocked Jane.  “She sent a girl home last year who did the same thing.”

“O Jane, how dreadful that would be,” said Agony.

“And how sorry you would be to have me go—­not,” returned Jane derisively.

“Jane,” said Agony seriously, “if I promise not to tell Mrs. Grayson this time will you promise never to do this sort of thing again?  It would be awful to be sent home from camp in disgrace.  If you think it over you’ll surely see what a much better time you’ll have if you don’t break rules—­if you work and play honorably.  Won’t you please try?”