sounds they were, far off and faint, but growing steadily louder; wails
and long-drawn howls, mournful and despairing.

"A-a-oo-ow! Aa-ow-ooo!"

"What in the world?" muttered Brown, and ran out of the kitchen and
around the corner of the house.

There was nothing in sight, nothing strange or unusual, that is. Joshua,
Seth's old horse, picketted to a post in the back yard and grazing, or
trying to graze, on the stubby beach grass, was the only living exhibit.
But the sounds continued and grew louder.

"Aa-ow-ooo! Ow-oo-ow-ooo!"

Over the rise of a dune, a hundred yards off, where the road to Eastboro
village dipped towards a swampy hollow, appeared a horse's head and
the top of a covered wagon. A moment later the driver became visible,
a freckled faced boy grinning like a pumpkin lantern. The horse trotted
through the sand up to the lights. Joshua whinnied as if he enjoyed the
prospect of company. From the back of the wagon, somewhere beneath the
shade of the cover, arose a heartrending wail, reeking of sorrow and
agony.

"Aa-ow-OOO! Ooo-aa-OW!"

"For heaven's sake," exclaimed the lightkeeper's helper, running to meet
the vehicle, "what is the matter?"

The boy grinned more expansively than ever. "Whoa!" he shouted, to the