predecessors; he manifested his illness simply by
lying down and looking more innocent than usual, and heaving big sighs
which wrung Virginia's heart.

In the sitting-room the study of Steve Brown went forward prosperously
again, but especially now in regard to the woman in the case. If the
one they named was anywhere within range of psychic influence, it is
safe to say her left ear burned that evening. And when, finally, it
was all over, the guests, departing, paused at the gate and turned
their thoughts to the rocks there assembled.

"What will we do? I would n't carry mine for anything," said Mrs.
Norton.

"Why, leave them here. We 'll have Jonas Hicks come and get them,"
said Mrs. Harmon.

CHAPTER VII

Janet caught her breath and looked about her. It was the same shack on
a hillock, the same gully and sheep-pen and dog, likewise the same Mr.
Brown. Under the circumstances, it was natural for her to try to say
something, and she did the best she could. When he had gathered, from
her rather unexplanatory remarks, just what had happened, the first
thought that crossed his mind was that he had eaten the last piece of
fruit-cake which she left behind. If there is anything embarrassing to
a man, it is to have company come unexpectedly when there is not a
thing fit to eat in the house. He had finished up the cake a short
while before, together with the remainder of crackers and a dill pickle.

"I have eaten up all the good stuff," he explained. "Do you like
beans?"

"Yes, indeed," answered Janet, who was truly hungry.

He lifted the lid of the box and produced a small iron pot of boiled
beans. They were beans of the Mexican variety, a kind which look nice
and brown because they are that color before you cook them. When he
had put some bacon into the frying-pan and given it time to heat, he
scraped the beans in and stirred them up. He had made bread for supper
by the usual method of baking soft dough in a skillet with the lid on;
there was left of this a wedge big enough to split the stoutest
appetite; and when he had placed this where it would warm up, he turned
his attention to the coffee-pot.

"Oh, you do not need to do that. I can make my own coffee," offered
Janet.

"You had better let me get supper," he answered. "You 're tired."

Several times during the day she had pondered upon his high-handed way
of taking charge of her affairs. Submitting to this further dictation,
she spread