the door of the
cottage. The path to the bridge passed her scarcely five yards distant.
Therefore, as Hezekiah Cragg had not appeared, he was doubtless
sleeping the sleep of the just--or the unjust, for all sorts and
conditions of men indulge in sleep.

Josie waited until nearly one o'clock. Then she went home, let herself
in by a side door to which she had taken the key, and in a few minutes
was as sound asleep as Old Swallowtail ought to be.

For three nights in succession the girl maintained this vigil, with no
result whatever. It was wearisome work and she began to tire of it. On
the fourth day, as she was "visiting" with Ingua, she asked:

"Has your grandfather had any sleepless nights lately?"

"I don't know," was the reply. "But he ain't walked any, as he
sometimes does, for I hain't heard him go out."

"Do you always hear him?"

"P'r'aps not always, but most times."

"And does he walk more than one night?" inquired Josie.

"When he takes them fits, they lasts for a week or more," asserted
Ingua. "Then, for a long time, he sleeps quiet."

"Will you let me know, the next time he takes to walking?"

"Why?" asked the child, suspiciously.

"It's a curious habit," Josie explained, "and I'd like to know what he
does during all those hours of the night."

"He walks," declared Ingua; "and, if he does anything else, it's his
own business."

"I've wondered," said Josie impressively, "if he doesn't visit some
hidden grave during those midnight rambles."

Ingua shuddered.

"I wish ye wouldn't talk like that," she whispered. "It gives me the
creeps."

"Wouldn't you like to know the truth of all this mystery, Ingua?"

"Sometimes I would, an' sometimes I wouldn't. If the truth leaked out,
mebbe Gran'dad would git inter a lot o' trouble. I don't want that,
Josie. I ain't no cause to love Gran'dad, but he's a Cragg an' I'm a
Cragg, an' no Cragg ever went back on the fambly."

It seemed unwise to urge the child further to betray her grandfather,
yet for Ingua's sake, if for no other reason, Josie was determined to
uncover the hidden life of Hezekiah Cragg.

The following night she watched again at her station by the river bank,
and again the midnight hour struck and the old man had not left his
cottage. His light was extinguished at eleven o'clock. At twelve-thirty
Josie rose from the shadow of the tree and slowly walked to the bridge.
There, instead of going home, she turned in the direction of the town.