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Betty handed the glass to Cathalina, and turning, saw a man who was tying up one of the vines and had turned to look at her. Betty caught a flashing look of recognition and then the man’s back was quickly turned. Betty was instinctively on guard, and in even tones continued her low conversation with Cathalina. “Do you get it, Cathalina?”

“Yes, Betty. You look now. It is on that low bush. See?”

The girls satisfied themselves in regard to the wren and went on up the slope toward the old log house, on whose step they sat down to look over the whole place with their field glass, for they had decided that one was enough to bring on a picnic.

Betty glanced around to see if any one was within hearing. “I’ve something to tell you,” she said. “Did you notice the man that was tying up the vines as we came along?”

“Why, yes, I believe I did see somebody, one of the hands, I suppose.”

“Yes, and he gave me the funniest look and hurried to turn his back on us. Now where have I seen those flashing eyes before? I certainly haven’t any acquaintances like that!”