ing the loop up one side of the mountain and down the other, but found the occupation empty. The half-hour passed, then three-quarters, and she had not come. He began to be anxious. There was no other way for her to come back, for though there were many trails farther up the mountain, and also down below, yet upon this particular ridge the roadway filled the entire knife-edge, leaving no space for a trail, though just at the curve there was a little hillock which one might ascend, but one must come down into the road again in plain sight; so there had been no way for her to have passed, unless he had slept on the watch, which he was only too positive that he had not. And yet she never stayed out so long as this. He looked at his watch again. It was the time that she always gave the little boy his supper; for he knew all of her little home schedule, and she never missed attending to that, herself.
He got up and went to the door anxiously, determined to brave Fong and inquire if she had come in; but when he passed through the break in the hedge, he found Fong standing in the road gazing toward the curve as intently as he had been doing. "Has Mrs. Malua come back from her walk?" he asked the man, sharply.
Fong turned, his gaunt face looking particularly grim. "No," he said; "She no come home. No good. I no like. She no stop so long before. I no like."
