go so far as the rose pergola unless Nolan is there to hold my hand and
shoo away the ghosts and things."

"That is our difference. You are afraid of the world and the night, I am
afraid only of men and women. I have lived alone, and have had wide dark
gardens to wander in. They have never harmed me. Only men have injured
me, and my family. So I love to slip down into the soft fragrant darkness
of the canyon and sit on the big stones or on the velvet grass, and see
my future in the shadows."

"But do not stay long. The whole canyon is yours to dream in, if it makes
you happy. But wear a heavy wrap and do not get chilled."

Then with a hasty kiss she ran down the steps to the car.

Eveley was tired that night. The first lesson in driving, the lazy supper
on the beach, and the long ride, left her listless and indolent. So after
their merry dinner, and a dance or two around the Victrola, she said she
had a headache and wanted to go home.

They drove very slowly along the winding road, and were quietly content.
Nolan opened the doors of the garage and Eveley ran the car into place;
then, as she was really tired, at the foot of the rustic stairs he said
good night, while she crept slowly up the steps.

For the first time, there was no Marie to welcome her. The room, though
lighted, looked dreary and forlorn without the pretty adopted girl.

"The little goosie," said Eveley, with a tender smile. "I suppose she is
still dreaming down in that spooky canyon. Maybe she has fallen asleep. I
shall have to go after her."

She took a small flash-light, and hurried down the rustic stairs and the
well-known path beyond the rose pergola, where she hoped to find Marie.

But Marie was not there.

Eveley knew every foot of the canyon by heart; she went surely and
without hesitation along the twisting, winding, rocky path, half-way down
the narrow slope.

"Marie," she called softly, "Marie."

But there was no answer.

"Maybe she is behind the live oak in the Rambler's Retreat," she thought,
and climbed up the steep bank from the path, clinging to bits of
shrubbery and foliage. But Marie was not there. And then as Eveley
turned, she heard quick running steps in the pathway under the swinging
bridge that spanned the canyon lower down.

Eveley sighed aloud in her relief,--then her breath caught in her
throat,--a gasp of fear.

For sounding clear and distinct above the light steps came a pounding of
heavier feet. Some one was