d bloody ground_!" something seemed to say just behind her. Then the
trees took it up, and all the leaves whispered, "_Sh--sh, sh! Dark and
bloody ground! Sh--sh_!"

At that she was so frightened that she began calling again, but the
sound of her own voice startled her. "Oh, they are not coming," she
thought, with a miserable ache in her throat, that seemed swelling
bigger and bigger. "I'll have to stay here in the woods all night. Oh,
mamma! mamma!" she moaned, "I am so scared! If you could only come back
and get your poor little girl!"

Up to this time she had bravely fought back the tears, but just then a
screech-owl flapped down from a branch above her with such a dismal
hooting that she gave a nervous start and a cry of terror. "Oh, that
frightened me so!" she sobbed. "I don't believe I can stand it to be out
here all night alone with so many horrible creepy things everywhere. And
nobody cares! Nobody but papa and mamma, and they are away, way off in
Cuba. Maybe I'll never see them any more," At that the tears rolled down
her face, and she could not move a hand to wipe them away. To be so
little and miserable and forsaken, so worn out with waiting and so
helpless among all these unknown horrors that the dark woods might hold,
was worse torture to the imaginative child than any bodily pain could
have been.

It was just as her last bit of courage oozed away, and she began to cry,
that the boys suddenly realised how long they had left her.

"It must be as dark as a pocket in the woods by this time," exclaimed
Malcolm. "What do you suppose Ginger will say to us for leaving her
so long?"

"You will have to take a knife to cut her loose," said Keith. "I tried
to untie the knots before I came away, but I couldn't move them."

"My pocket-knife is up-stairs," answered Malcolm. "I'll get something in
the dining-room that will do."

He was rushing out again with a carving-knife in his hand, when he came
face to face with his grandmother and Aunt Allison. The boys had been so
interested in their camera that they had not heard the train whistle, or
the sound of footsteps coming up on the front veranda. Pete was lighting
the hall lamps as the ladies came in, and he turned his back to hide the
broad grin on his face, as he thought of the sight which would soon
greet them. Mrs. Maclntyre gave a gasp of astonishment and sank down in
the nearest chair as Malcolm came dashing into the bright lamplight.

His turkey feathers w