the lantern; its flame had
dwindled to the feeblest of feeble sparks.

"Now then," said Thankful, with determination, "whoever--or--or whatever
thing you are that's makin' that noise you might just as well show
yourself. If you're hidin' you'd better come out, for I'll find you."

But no one or no "thing" came out. Thankful waited a moment and then
proceeded to give that room a very thorough looking-over. It was such
a small apartment that the process took but little time. There was no
closet. Except for the one window and the door by which she had entered,
the four walls, covered with old-fashioned ugly paper, had no openings
of any kind. There could be no attic or empty space above the ceiling
because she could hear the rain upon the sloping roof. She looked under
the bed and found nothing but dust. She looked in the bed, even under
the rocking-chair.

"Well, there!" she muttered. "I said it and I was right. I AM gettin'
to be a nervous old fool. I'm glad Emily ain't here to see me. And yet I
did--I swear I did hear somethin'."

The pictures on the wall by the window caught her eye. She walked over
and looked at them. The lantern gave so little light that she could
scarcely see anything, but she managed to make out that one was a dingy
chromo with a Scriptural subject. The other was a battered "crayon
enlargement," a portrait of a man, a middle-aged man with a chin beard.
There was something familiar about the face in the portrait. Something--

Thankful gasped. "Uncle Abner!" she cried. "Why--why--"

Then the lantern flame gave a last feeble sputter and went out. She
heard the groan again. And in that room, the room she had examined so
carefully, so close as to seem almost at her very ear, a faint voice
wailed agonizingly, "Oh, Lord!"

Thankful went away. She left the comforter and the lantern upon the
floor and she did not stop to close the door of the little bedroom.
Through the black darkness of the long hall she rushed and down the
creaky stairs. Her entrance to the sitting-room was more noisy than her
exit had been and Miss Howes stirred upon the sofa and opened her eyes.

"Auntie!" she cried, sharply. "Aunt Thankful, where are you?"

"I'm--I'm here, Emily. That is, I guess--yes, I'm here."

"But why is it so dark? Where is the lantern?"

"The lantern?" Mrs. Barnes was trying to speak calmly but, between
agitation and loss of breath, she found it hard work. "The lantern?
Why--it's--it's gone," she sa