aimed
eagerly. "That lets all the water out, you see. Why, if the dam were put
back, you'd have as pretty a lake for a canoe as there is in the State!
Its natural depth is four or five feet all over, and about eight or ten
where the stream flows through to the dam. Even yet, a few wild duck
stop there spring and fall, and when I was a boy I've seen heron. Put
back the dam, Mr. Locke, and I'll guarantee you'll never say swamp
again!"

"We will try it," I said. "Now let us find a lawyer and see how quickly
I can be put in possession."

We drove back to the little town from which we had that morning started
out, and where my agent lived; my sleek car following his small one with
somewhat the effect of a long-limbed panther striding behind an agitated
mouse.

It appeared that the sale was simply consummated. I do not mean that all
the formalities were completed in a day. But by nightfall I could feel
myself the owner of the place.

Perhaps it was the giddiness of being a land-owner for the first time,
or perhaps it was the abject wretchedness of the only hotel in town that
inspired the whim which seized me during my solitary dinner. I had spent
one night here, and did not welcome the prospect of a second. A return
to New York was not practicable, because I had arranged to meet several
contractors and an architect at the farm, next morning, to discuss the
alterations I wanted made. Why not drive out to my new house this
evening and sleep tonight in the rosewood-furnished bedroom?

The idea gained favor as I contemplated it. I could go over the house
tonight and sketch more clearly what I wanted done, while I would be on
the ground when my men arrived next morning. There was an allure of
camping out about it, too.

In the end I went, of course.

It was dark when I stabled my roadster in the barn that was part of my
new possessions; where the car seemed to glitter disdain of the
hay-littered, ragged shelter. Equipped with a flashlight, suitcase and
bundle, I followed a faint path that wound its way to the house through
wet blackberry vines whose thorns had outlived the winter. My steps
broke the blank silence that brooded over the place. At this season
there was no insect life; nor any other stirring thing within hearing or
sight. But just as I stepped upon the veranda, I heard a vague sound
from the lake that lay a few hundred feet to the north. There was no
wind, yet the water had seemed to move with a sound like th