CHAPTER XXI
ON LUNA LAND
GRACE tapped at the side window of the Log Cabin; she had climbed over the little stile-steps that mounted the fence between Rosabell and Cleo's cottage, and now she waited at the window for a sign of life within, for it was early, and summer folks could sleep late. Her round dimpled face was pressed to the pane with a rather serious look, and anyone might know to see her, that Grace was troubled.
Cleo answered the call, throwing open the latticed window, and almost kissing Grace in the act.
"Come in, Grazia. Why so early? Looking for the story book worm?" Cleo greeted.
"I'm glad you are not out—on the lake I mean," answered Grace. "I'll come around to the side porch, Cleo, I must talk with you."
On the big swing made of interlaced white birchwood, the two chums perched, and Grace promptly undertook to unburden her mind.
"Cleo dear," she said, "I am so worried about Kitty. How do we know but that woman may have locked her up, or something?"
"Strange, Grazia, I have been thinking just that myself. But how are we to find out without jeopardizing Kitty's interests? She begged us not to go over there."
"I know, Cleo, but I have a plan. You and I can go to the Point. We will ask Tommie Johnston to row us over. He would not be busy so early, and a row boat doesn't make any noise. Then, we can go over to the island, and just feel our way around."