If we don't see her to-day, we'll keep on putting it off and end up by not seeing her at all." "That's true," Grace agreed.
The two girls strolled along in the direction of Upton Wood, thoroughly enjoying their walk.

Occasionally, they stopped to gather a few wild flowers, or listen to the joyous trill of a bird.

They were at the edge of the wood, when Grace suddenly put up her hand.
"Hush!" she said.

"I hear voices." Just then the cry Help! Help! rang out.
"That's Miriam's voice," cried Grace.
Glancing quickly about for a weapon, Grace picked up a good-sized stick she found on the ground, and ran in the direction of the sound, Anne at her heels.
Miriam was struggling desperately to free herself from the grasp of a rough, unkempt fellow who had her by the arm and was trying to abstract the little gold watch that she wore fastened to her shirtwaist with a chatelaine pin.
The tramp stood with his back to the approaching girls.

Before he was aware of their presence, Grace brought her stick down on his head with all the force she had in her strong, young arms.
With a howl of pain he released Miriam, whirling on his assailant.