The handling of it is always within
our power."

"And we can turn it to ill or good, as we wish?"

"Precisely."

"Providing we are wise enough," she returned.

"Yes, always providing that. That is the test of us."

"If we do poorly because of lack of wisdom?" she pressed him further.

"The cost is the same," he answered bitterly.

"That is a man's view. I don't like to feel so responsible."

"It would n't be necessary for women to be responsible for anything if
men lived up to their best."

She laughed comfortably. He was one who would. She liked the
uncompromising way in which his lips closed below his quick imaginative
eyes.

It seemed but a matter of minutes before the train drew up at a toy
station which looked like the suburban office of a real estate
development company. Here they learned that the summer schedule was
not yet in force, which meant that they would be unable to find a train
back until four o'clock.

"I should have inquired at the other end. That oversight is either
chance or stupidity," he exclaimed.

She met his eyes frankly, apparently not at all disconcerted.

"We can't decide which until we learn how it turns out, can we?" she
laughed.

"No," he replied seriously, "it will depend upon that."

"Then," she said, "we need n't worry until the end. I have a feeling,
grown strong now that we are here, that we shall need the extra time.
I think we shall find him."

"That result alone will excuse my carelessness."

She appeared a bit worried over a new thought.

"I forgot. This will delay you further on your vacation."

"No. Nothing can do that," he interrupted her. "Every day, every hour
I live is my vacation."

"That," she said, "is a fine way to take life."

He looked startled, but hastened to find a vehicle to carry them the
three miles which lay between the station and the bungalow. He found
an old white horse attached to the dusty skeleton of a depot wagon
waiting for chance passengers. They clambered into this and were soon
jogging at an easy pace over the fragrant bordered road which wandered
with apparent aimlessness between the green fields. The driver turned
half way in his seat with easy familiarity as they started up the first
long hill. "Ben't ye afeered to go inter th' house?" he inquired.

"Afraid of what?" demanded Donaldson.

"Spooks."

"They don't come out in the daytime, do they?"

"I dunno. But they do say as how th' house is ha'nted