“I'm glad she's at home!” Mary exclaimed. “The light shines with a friendly glow in these deep shadows.”
“Afraid, Kiddo?” he asked lightly.
“I don't like these dark places.”
“All right when you get used to 'em—safer than daylight.”
Again her heart beat at his queer speech. She shivered at the thought of this uncanny trait of character so suddenly developed today. She made an effort to throw off her depression. It would vanish with the sun tomorrow morning.
He picked his way carefully among the trees and stopped in front of the cabin door. The little house sat back from the road a hundred feet or more.
He blew his horn twice and waited.
A sudden crash inside, and the light went out. He waited a moment for it to come back.
Only darkness and dead silence.
“Suppose she dropped dead and kicked over the lamp?” Jim laughed.