precipice, but the principal connecting link between the queer
habitation and the world is that flight of rickety wooden steps.

Taking advantage of an irregularity in the line of cliffs, the upper
landing of the stairway is placed at the side of the hut. In the rear,
a small garden is protected from the uncultivated life of the hillside
by a fence of close-set pickets. Across the front of the curious
structure, well out on the projecting point of rocks, and reached only
through the interior, a wide, strongly railed porch overhangs the sheer
wall like a balcony.

With fast-beating hearts, the two small adventurers gained the top of
the stairway. Cautiously they looked about--listening, conferring in
whispers, ready for instant, headlong retreat.

The tall grasses and flowering weeds on the hillside nodded sleepily in
the sunlight. A bird perched on a near-by bush watched them with bright
eyes for a moment, then fearlessly sought the shade of the vines that
screened the side of the hut. Save the distant, droning, moaning voice
of the Mill, there was no sound.

Calling up the last reserves of their courage, the children crept
softly along the board walk that connects the landing of the stairway
with the rude dwelling. Once again they paused to look and listen.
Then, timidly, they took the last cautious steps and stood in the open
doorway. With big, wondering eyes they stared into the room.

It was a rather large room, with a low-beamed ceiling of unfinished
pine boards and gray, rough-plastered walls, and wide windows. A
green-shaded student lamp with a pile of magazines and papers on the