g and his leg disappeared up to the knee.

After that he proceeded more cautiously, following the lines of the
beams on which the boards were nailed, but even these shook and groaned
under his weight. A whimsical fancy made him think of the fabled boat of
Charon which will float a thousand bodiless spirits over the Styx but
which sinks to the water-line with the weight of a single human being.

So he passed forward like one in a fabric of spider-webs almost fearing
to breathe lest the whole house should puff away to shreds before him.
Half the boards, fallen from the ceiling, revealed the bare rafters
above; below there were ragged holes in the flooring. In one place a
limb, torn by lightning or wind from its overhanging tree, had crashed
through the corner of the roof and dropped straight through to the
ground.

At last he reached a habitable room in the front of the house. It was a
new shell built inside the old wreck, with four stout corner-posts
supporting cross-beams, which in turn held up the mouldering roof. In
the centre was a rude table and on either side a bunk built against the
wall. Perhaps this was where Drew lived on the occasions of his visits
to the old ranchhouse.

Out of the gloom of the place, Bard stepped with a shrug of the
shoulders, like one who shakes off the spell of a nightmare. He strode
through the doorway and took the slant, warm sun of the afternoon full
in his face.

He found himself in front of the only spot on the entire premises which
showed the slightest care, the mound of a grave under the shelter of two
trees whose branches were interwoven overhead in a sort of impromptu
roof. From the surface of the mound all the weeds and grasses had been
carefully cleared away, and around its edge ran a path covered with
gravel and sand. It was a wellbeaten path with the mark of heels still
comparatively fresh upon it.

The headstone itself bore not a vestige of moss, but time had cracked it
diagonally and the chiselled letters were weathered away. He studied it
with painful care, poring intently over each faint impression. He who
cared for the grave had apparently been troubled only to keep the stone
free from dirt--the lettering he must have known by heart. At length
Bard made out this inscription:

HERE SLEEPS

JOAN

WIFE OF WILLIAM DREW

SHE CHOSE THIS PLACE FOR REST

CHAPTER X

A BIT OF STALKING