WHEN Mary Jane went down stairs the next morning she spied a queer looking box with holes cut in the sides lying on the big table in the office.

“Now I wonder if that’s it?” she thought. “And I wonder if I can look at it now.”

Fortunately, she didn’t have to wonder long. Tom was sitting in a corner reading the paper while waiting for her and as soon as he heard her whisper he bobbed up and said good morning.

“Look what I’ve got for you!” he exclaimed as he gave her the box. “No,” he added as he saw she hesitated about taking the cover off, “you don’t need to be afraid. I think he’s too sleepy to run away. Look and see what it is.” Mary Jane carefully lifted off the cover and there inside, nestled down on the grass, was a tiny little creature, about three inches long, with bead-like black eyes and a tail fully as long as his body.

“What is it?” cried Mary Jane; “it looks like a baby alligator only they’re brown.”

“Yes, it does look something like that,” agreed Tom, “but it isn’t an alligator. It’s a chameleon.”

“A chameleon?” repeated Mary Jane; “what’s a chameleon?”

Alice came running down the stairs just in time to hear what Mary Jane said. “I know,” she cried eagerly, “it’s a creature that changes its color.”

“But this doesn’t change any color,” said Mary Jane skeptically; “this’n green.”

“Yes,” said Tom, “because it’s on green grass. You just wait and I’ll show you.” He picked up the little creature by its tail and, holding it gently, laid it on the brown table cover. To the girls’ amazement the brilliant green color faded and like magic the creature before them was all of brown.

“Oh!” exclaimed Mary Jane, in an awe-struck voice; “what makes it do it?”

“They say,” replied Tom, “that it’s got a set of air cells that catch the color of whatever the creature’s on. But I don’t believe they really for sure certain know what does do it.”

“But that’s not yellow!” said Mary Jane, remembering that Mrs. Trudy had said three colors.

“Of course not,” laughed Tom, “because the table cover’s brown. Here, you put it on Alice’s yellow dress and see what happens.”

Very gingerly, Mary Jane picked up the little creature and laid it in Alice’s lap. And sure enough! Like magic again the chameleon changed its color—this time a golden yellow that was streaked a bit with brown at the sides—made it look utterly unlike the green animal Mary Jane had first seen in the box.

“I think that’s the wonderfulest thing I ever saw,” she exclaimed. “I’m just going to change it around all day and see what it does.”

Fortunately Mrs. Merrill had made no special plans for that day. She thought that if they were to take the boat trip so recommended to them, the girls had better have a day of rest and quiet play before they set off. So Mary Jane had plenty of time to play with her chameleon to her heart’s content. Later in the morning, Tom found one for Alice too and they made a nest for them out in the fern box on the big front porch.

There were things to do besides play with the chameleons too. The yard was full of squirrels which would eat out of the girls’ hands. And back of the house a beautifully shaded canal proved to be the home of many sorts and sizes of turtles. So interesting did the girls find their play that they didn’t care to leave it even for a walk up town when Mrs. Merrill decided that she would go up and get the boat tickets for to-morrow.

The first thing Mary Jane heard the next morning was her mother’s voice saying, “Alice! Mary Jane! Do wake up quickly! We’ve over slept and the train goes in an hour and a half. Lucky I packed up the trunk and all your shells last night for we’ll have to fly now.”

The girls tumbled out of bed in a jiffy. They had talked with folks in the hotel the evening before about the Ocklawaha River trip and they were eager to take it. So it needed no urging to get them tubbed and dressed and down to the dining room in short order.

“You’ve plenty of time,” said Mrs. Trudy reassuringly; “your trunk will go right now—I’ll tend to that and Tom is ready to drive you to the station, so take your time at breakfast. The train doesn’t go till nine, you know.”

Later Mrs. Merrill had looked over her mail and the girls had said good-by to all their new friends and were just getting into the station bus when the telephone rang. “Train’s an hour late,” said Mrs. Trudy as she hung up the receiver, “aren’t you glad you did not rush more?”

“But will that give us plenty of time to make the boat?” asked Mrs. Merrill; “let’s see—two hours for the trip and the boat goes at twelve forty-five. Yes, that ought to be plenty of time. Girls, you may run out and take a last look at your chameleons if you like.” That was welcome permission. Of course they had wanted to take the chameleons home with them but Mrs. Merrill thought it wasn’t possible as they were stopping so many places en route. But it was fun to hunt them up and play a few minutes with their changing colors.

As the minutes went by Mrs. Merrill became uneasy and a second telephone message bringing news that the train was an hour and a half late confirmed her suspicion that they might have trouble making connections.

“I think I’ll phone the agency where I got the tickets,” she said finally. “Perhaps they will wire and have the boat held for us.” The ticket lady was most reassuring and was certain that the boat would wait so Mrs. Merrill felt comforted. But it was eleven o’clock when the train finally came and it lost more time all the way up.

“Girls,” said Mrs. Merrill, as they neared their station at half past one, “get your bags and camera ready for a dash. If I see a car anywhere around the station I’ll take it in a jiffy and we’ll drive as fast as possible for that boat. I have an uneasy feeling that they won’t wait this long for us and I don’t want to lose a minute’s time.”

They stepped off the train the instant it stopped and Mrs. Merrill ran toward a small car that, with chugging engine and waiting driver, stood near by.

“Will you take us to the boat?” she cried eagerly.

“Sure, lady,” said the driver cheerfully; “pile right in.”

Grabbing the luggage the girls carried, a small bag and Alice’s camera, Mrs. Merrill tossed it with her own bag into the back, pushed the girls in and, jumping in herself, slammed the door behind her. And that same instant a man who evidently had been up at the front of the train jumped in the front seat by the driver, and with a lurch the car dashed away.

“The boat, you know,” said Mrs. Merrill as soon as she got her breath; “we want the Ocklawaha boat.” “Sure, lady,” said the man, “we’ll make it.” He waved a yellow telegram before her, but with the jolting of the car and the rush of the wind, Mrs. Merrill couldn’t tell what it said nor could she hear the rest of his words.

“Well, no use getting excited,” she said, sitting back where she could brace herself better. “Evidently they wired to meet us here and that certainly was thoughtful. Hang on to the seat there, Mary Jane, or you’ll bounce out, child,” she added quickly as an extra big lurch of the car threatened to toss Mary Jane out over the side.

On they dashed through the noon sunshine: past houses and streets and out into the open country. And no sign of a boat landing anywhere.

“Something’s wrong, I know,” said Mrs. Merrill with concern. “I know we’ve been at least four miles and the boat landing was only two miles from the station. They’ve got to stop and tell me where they are going.” She braced herself firmly and then reached front and shouted to the driver.

“Stop! Stop right here! I told you I want to go to the boat landing and you’re not taking us in that direction.”

The driver slowed up a bit so they could talk better but he didn’t stop. The man with him swung around in his seat and began to explain.

“The boat isn’t at the landing, lady,” he said much to Mrs. Merrill’s dismay; “she left an hour back.”

“Then where are you taking us?” demanded Mrs. Merrill.

“To the boat,” he said. “You see it’s this way, lady. The first part of that trip is on the St. John’s River and right here” (he swung his arm off to the left) “the river makes a bend. We had to let the boat go on time because folks don’t like to wait, but we’ll take you across the bend straight, you see, and catch the boat at the first stop. We can do in half an hour in this car what it takes her about an hour and a half to do on the water. Never you fear, now, you’ll catch the boat right enough, lady.”

“Then we might as well enjoy the ride,” said Mrs. Merrill to the girls as, fairly satisfied with his explanation, she settled back in her place.

“If you call this enjoying,” laughed Alice, as she tossed from front to back as they sped over the rough road.

“Here,” said Mrs. Merrill, “let me sit in the middle and hold each of you.” Alice moved over and Mrs. Merrill sat in the middle of the seat with an arm around each girl. “Now we have the fun of knowing that if any one bounces out we all will!”

None too soon did they brace themselves either, for at that minute the driver turned off from the road into a woods. If the road had been rough, there’s no describing the roughness of the rude path they followed through the woods. Hardly more than a trail it was and over it they bumped and tossed and hurried down a hill, through the trees and out onto a rude dock on the bank of a great river.

“Boat come yet?” asked the driver of a lone fisherman.

“Yeh,” he replied, “she come an’ gone fifteen minutes er-go!”

Mrs. Merrill exclaimed with dismay but the driver didn’t stop for consultation. With a whirl of his wheel that sent the car spinning he turned around and dashed back up the hill.

“Girls,” said Mrs. Merrill solemnly, “I think he’s crazy. But all I can see for us to do is to sit still and hang together. Maybe sometime we’ll get somewhere—let’s hope. Here, Mary Jane, snug up close so you won’t bounce out!”

And turning onto the road, the car dashed off toward the south.