our feet, as we moved forward. Yet, in spite of the quietness, I had a
horrible feeling that we were not alone; and I kept so close to Tonnison
that twice I kicked his heels clumsily, though he said nothing. A
minute, and then another, and we reached the confines of the wood coming
out at last upon the bare rockiness of the countryside. Only then was I
able to shake off the haunting dread that had followed me among
the trees.

Once, as we moved away, there seemed to come again a distant sound of
wailing, and I said to myself that it was the wind--yet the evening was
breathless.

Presently, Tonnison began to talk.

"Look you," he said with decision, "I would not spend the night in
_that_ place for all the wealth that the world holds. There is something
unholy--diabolical--about it. It came to me all in a moment, just after
you spoke. It seemed to me that the woods were full of vile
things--you know!"

"Yes," I answered, and looked back toward the place; but it was hidden
from us by a rise in the ground.

"There's the book," I said, and I put my hand into the satchel.

"You've got it safely?" he questioned, with a sudden access of anxiety.

"Yes," I replied.

"Perhaps," he continued, "we shall learn something from it when we get