the storm, but--Mary, who lives on Thunder Peak?"

Some people are unnerved by surprise; Mary was always steadied.

"There ain't any one," she said, quietly, and leaned over to light the
fire; the afternoon was growing chilly.

"Who used to live there, Mary? There is a cabin there."

Mary did not flinch, but she was feeling her way, always a little ahead
of Nancy.

"There was an old woman lived there--long ago; she died."

"Are you sure, Mary?"

"I'm right certain. She plumb broke down when she was ninety, and that
was years back."

"Mary, there's a grave there!"

"Yes; when folks die they just naturally have a grave." A cold, icy
light flickered in Mary's eyes; she reached and took up another log and
carefully placed it.

"Mary, I went to Thunder Peak, I was following the trail. I came
suddenly into the open and I saw an old woman. She touched me"--here
Nancy shuddered. "She--she seemed to--to think she knew me. She called
me a queer name. I cannot remember it. I was terribly frightened. Are
you _quite_, quite sure the old woman died, Mary?"

"She died, she surely died. Old women ain't such precious sights among
the hills. Like as not it was someone from Huckleberry Bald, t'other
side of Thunder, as has taken over the deserted cabin and just wants to
frighten folks, like you, off. They are mighty cute, those old women on
Bald. They want their own place, and--and they sometimes shoot at any
one that comes nigh."

The voice and words were cool and even. Nancy drew a long breath.

"Oh, Mary," she said, "you just take all the fear away. I kept feeling
that old hand on my arm as if it were dragging me; the feeling is gone
now. Jed said"--here Nancy wavered--"he said the place was haunted."

"Jed was a born fool and yo' can't do much with that kind. They grows
more fool-like at the end."

Nancy laughed.

"I'm just a silly myself," she said rising and stretching her pretty
arms over her head as if awakening from sleep. Then:

"Mary, I'm going to New York next winter. Going to have--a wonderful
time."

And now Mary looked up and her eyes brightened.

"At last," she muttered; "you're to have your chance!"

"My--chance, Mary?"

"Your chance--same as Miss Joan."

And a moment later Mary was watching Nancy as she went singing down the
river road.

"Gawd!" she muttered, and her yellowish skin paled. "Gawd! What has she
come back for?--what?" and Mary's eyes lifted to Thunder Peak. Later she
made ready