they fell. Far off a great owl hooted. But Mehitable was not in the least nervous.
She was thinking contentedly of the busy day planned for the morrow, of the happy afternoon she had just passed, hoping with the careless assurance and lack of worry of childhood that her mother would be better by the time she reached home, when all of a sudden, stepping lightly around a great boulder that centered the path, she stopped short—gasped—stiffened. A thrill of terror shot through her.
For facing her steadily, unmoving, menacing, two flaming eyes burned through the darkness, barring her pathway!
