nowhere, it would seem, since they could see nothing; rose slowly
to a subdued shriek, clung there nerve-wrackingly, and then
wailed mournfully down to silence. Afterward, while their ears
were still strained to the sound, the bobcat squalled an answer
from among the rocks.

"Yes, I heard it," said Grant. "It's a spook. It's the wail of
a lost spirit, loosed temporarily from the horrors of purgatory.
It's sent as a warning to repent you of your sins, and it's
howling because it hates to go back. What you going to do about
it?"

He made his own intention plain beyond any possibility of
misunderstanding. He lay down and pulled the blanket over his
shoulders, cuddled his pillow under his head, and disposed
himself to sleep.

The moon climbed higher, and sent silvery splinters of light
quivering down among the trees. A frog crawled out upon a great
lily--pad and croaked dismally.

Again came the wailing cry, nearer than before, more subdued, and
for that reason more eerily mournful. Grant sat up, muttered to
himself, and hastily pulled on some clothes. The frog cut
himself short in the middle of a deep-throated ARR-RR-UMPH and
dove headlong into the pond; and the splash of his body cleaving
the still surface of the water made Gene shiver nervously. Grant
reached under his pillow for something, and freed himself
stealthily from a blanketfold.