going to snatch my work. I don't think you're helping me one bit."

She suited the action to the word; shook her head at Reuther and
went back to her old position on the hearth.

"I was afraid of it," murmured Reuther. "If we take the ride to-
morrow, it will not be alone. If, on the other hand, we delay our
trip, we may be forestalled in the errand upon which so much
depends. We are not the only ones who have heard of the strange
young man at Tempest Lodge."

The answer came with quick decision. "There is but one thing for
us to do. I will tell you what it is a little later. Go and sit on
the hearth with Miss Weeks, and mind that you laugh and chat as if
your minds were quite undisturbed. I am going to have a talk with
our host."




XXX

TEMPEST LODGE


"What's that?"

"That's the cry of a loon."

"How awful! Do they often cry like that?"