“The coat! Where is the coat?” she gasped.
I remembered then that in my eagerness to escape from the cave I had left the coat lying as I had used it, rolled up for a pillow.
“It’s in the Hermit’s cave,” I said meekly, ashamed to admit that I had forgotten the thing that she held so sacred that, for its sake, she had followed me in the rain for some toilsome upward miles.
“Go back and get it instantly, instantly!” cried my usually calm sister, wringing her hands in distress. The distress was so unnecessarily acute for the cause that I resented it.
“The coat is all right, Jessie; it is safe; and I do not want to go back there now.”
“Why not?”
I told her.
“You must!” said Jessie, with whitening lips. “You must! Come!” and she rushed up the trail toward the cavern.
“What have you done with Ralph?” I asked, hurrying after her. Jessie turned an anguished glance back at me over her shoulder.
“I have left him locked up in the house with a pair of scissors and a picture book; hurry!”