Cyn. Yes, a secret jest now. I’ll tell you later.
Obad. Wal, I kin wait, I reckon. I’m mighty glad you’re goin’ ter stay. Good-night, Cynth.
[Exit, C.
Cyn. Good-night, Obed. (Locks the door; goes to fireplace; picks up box; carries it out R.; reënters; goes to mantel; winds a clock; goes to center table; picks up lamp; starts toward stairs; stops; half turns back; repeats softly.) “The fog is lifting and the Keeper of the Beacon is sending me brighter rays to steer my course.” (Suddenly speaks impatiently.) Cynthia Tinker, you sartain are the biggest fool that walks! (Starts toward the stairs.)
Lee Gordon (knocking at door). Oh, I say! The house! (Cyn. turns back and listens, startled.) Is anybody home? (Knocks again.) May I come in?
Cyn. (uncertainly). Who—is it?
Lee. You won’t know if I tell you. I’m a stranger around here. I’m lost and I want some one to tell me where I am at.
Cyn. (putting lamp on table, then slowly unlocking and opening door). You sound all right. I’ll risk it even if you are a stranger in Bay Point. Come in!
Enter Lee. He is about twenty-one, very slight and boyish in appearance and manner. Decidedly likeable.
Lee (with a gasp). Thanks! (Slams the door.) My name is Gordon. Lee Gordon. (Leans back against the door.) I never was so nearly all in!