in Chicago, which Asa brought when we were at dinner, probably told about the man. But if he came from Chicago, he was before us; we know no one got off our train but ourselves, and there was no other train from Chicago yesterday. So he would have been about here when we arrived. But there was no stranger about or we'd have heard of it from Sam or Asa or somebody, as we heard about Bagley."
"There was the fellow who slept in the snow in the shack opposite the cabin where we had tea."
"Yes," Ethel said. "And I think my grandfather knew he was about yesterday afternoon. You see, grandfather was disturbed and expecting something yesterday when he called me up at the cabin before he knew you'd come and were going to the Rock. When Sam told us about Bagley, I thought that accounted for grandfather's interest. But I am sure now it was the other man being about. I think Kincheloe was out in the afternoon looking up that man, and I think—I think," she hazarded with the certainty of one of those lucid instants when in the mind a number of confused incidents become clear, "that the telegram from my uncle told my grandfather not so much that the man was here, but who he was and what his presence meant. You see, after that we had prayers and grandfather sent Kincheloe out again, and grandfather waited in his house with his rifle loaded. He wasn't sure whether Kincheloe, or the other man, was coming back from the Rock to his house."
She slid down from the counter upon which she had been sitting. "What are we in, you and I?" she asked, suddenly shivering.
He put his hands steadingly upon her arm. "I got you into it," he accused himself. "You know I'd
