e better of her. Without in the least knowing where she was going she
pushed on. Ducking her head through an opening in one place, turning and
twisting wherever she found it possible to make her way, the child came
at last into a thick forest. On every side of her stretched endless
avenues of trees. Now no sound of flying feet urged her on; no voice
called her.

Poor Mollie was entirely alone.

"What an utter goose I am!" she declared out loud. "I don't believe I
ever heard anyone, or saw anything. It was just my imagination that led
me on. Now, I hope," Mollie gave a rueful smile and sat down to pull the
brambles out of her dress, "I hope my imagination will kindly show me the
way home again!"

Which way should she go? There were half a dozen different directions
open to her. Which was the right one?

"I wonder," thought Mollie, "if, somehow, I have struck the famous 'Lost
Man's Trail?' It is a lost girl's trail all right!"

She turned this way, then that. In front of her between the sumach and
the holly trees was an open space, which might lead somewhere toward
home. Mollie pushed her way through. There were trees, trees, trees! No
path was visible between them.

For half a mile Mollie walked on blindly, feeling sure that, at any
minute, she would catch a glimpse of their familiar hillside. A sense of
sinking warned her that luncheon time had passed. High overhead she could
see by the sun that noon had passed.

Several times she called aloud. But Naki had warned her. This hill was
entirely deserted. No one ever walked or rode over it.

"I don't wonder," the little girl thought, with a lump in her throat. "No
one except myself would be such a goose as to try to find her way about
up here, or be silly enough to go on a ghost hunt."

She called again. "Hello! hello! I am lost! Is anyone near?" There was no
answer. Once Mollie thought she heard a strange sound, half-wild,
half-human, and called more loudly. This time there was no reply.

After several hours of walking, Mollie found her way out of the woods. As
she came again to an open hilltop she thought she could see the smoke
curling out of the chimney of their little, brown cabin, but far and
near, there was no familiar object. She had followed the wrong trail, and
was in an entirely different part of the country. There was nothing to do
but to return to the woods.

Wearily she walked back. "I am sure the girls must be looking for me,"
she said, trying to