Soft wisps of mist enfolded the shadowy building, giving it an eerie, almost ghostly appearance.
“It’s a house of some sort,” Connie admitted. “But I don’t see any light. It—it doesn’t look lived in, Vevi.”
“Let’s find out, Connie.”
Hand in hand, the girls left the pavement and stumbled up a gravel path. The fog was lighter and they could trace the outline of a low, rambling shingle and timber building.
“Why, it’s not a house at all!” Connie exclaimed.
“It’s a little ship! But how could a ship be here on dry land?”
Vevi squeezed her friend’s hand nervously. Through the mist the building had a most unreal appearance. Was her imagination playing tricks?
“Pinch me, Connie,” she whispered.
Connie obeyed, nipping Vevi’s arm so hard she squealed.
“It’s real, all right,” Vevi said, satisfied that she was wide awake.