n his own mind. The dull-faced girl was having a peculiar
effect upon him. He was getting excited.

"Well, Jan-an," he said at last, "it's this way. Things _are_
mattering. Mattering like thunder! And one place isn't as good as
another; this place is the only place on the map just now--catch on?"

Jan-an was making strenuous efforts to "catch on"; her face appeared
like a rubber mask that unseen fingers were pinching into comical
expressions.

Northrup began to wonder just how mentally lacking the girl was.

"But tuck this away in your noddle, Jan-an. Your Uncle Peter and Aunt
Polly have the right understanding. They trust me, and you will some
day. I'm going to stay right here--pass that along to anyone who asks
you, Jan-an. I'm going to stay here and see this thing out!"

"What thing?"

The elusive something that was puzzling the girl, the sense of
something wrong that her blinded but sensitive nature suffered from,
loomed close. This man might make it plain.

"What thing?" she asked huskily. Then Northrup laughed that disturbing
laugh of his.

"I don't know, Jan-an. 'Pon my soul, girl, I'd give a good deal to
know, but I don't. I'm like you, just feeling things."

Jan-an rose stiffly as if she were strung on wires. Her joints cracked
as they fell into place, but once the long body stood upright,
Northrup noticed that it was not without a certain rough grace and it
looked strong and capable of great endurance.

"I've been following you since the first day when you landed," Jan-an
spoke calmly. There was no warning or distrust in the voice, merely a
statement of fact. "And I'm going to keep on following and watching,
so long as you stay."

"Good! I'll never be really lonely then, and you'll sooner get to
trusting me."

"I ain't much for trusting till I knows."

The girl turned and strode away. "Well, if you ever need me, try me
out, Jan-an. Good-bye."

Northrup felt ill at ease after Jan-an passed from sight.

"Of all the messes!" he thought. "It makes me superstitious. What's
the matter with this Forest?"

And then Maclin again came into focus. Around Maclin, apparently, the
public thought revolved.

"They don't trust Maclin." Northrup began to reduce things to normal.
"He's got them guessing with his damned inventions and secrecy. Then
every outsider means a possible accomplice of Maclin. They hate the
foreigners he brings here. They have got their eyes on me. All right,
Maclin, my ready-to-wea