"Your father, Cousin Agnes, and Henry Laylor—were they at that sitting; or had you told Mrs. Brand about them before?"
Agnes shook her head. "No; but I was thinking about them. Some would say they came only from my mind."
"I wouldn't," Ethel said.
She canoed with Barney to the mainland that afternoon, beaching near Asa Redbird's cabin close to the point where she had followed Kincheloe out upon the ice; and they took the old path through the woods to St. Florentin. Barney accompanied Ethel to the big house but let her go in alone to find her grandmother.
Mrs. Singlewolf informed her that the old lady was taking a nap; but if this were true, Sarah Cullen's slumbers were light; quickly she was at the head of the stairs calling hopefully down, "Who has come in?"
Ethel replied and ran up and gathered the thin little figure in her arms.
"There, there, Debsie," Sarah petted her daughter's child and it was Sarah who comforted Ethel when they cried. "My boy's gone away but to come back, child. The Lord holds him in his hand and 'he that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High, shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.' . . . I have been studying to-day, Debsie, the ninety-first psalm. Shall we read it together?"
Barney waited outside for a long hour during which Sam Green Sky often interrupted his formal efforts in the garden to offer interested comment or question.
"Damn funny business, 'bout this place now," Sam informed. "Somebody killed out there, huh? Kinche-
