They left the cabin, locking the door behind them. Madge cast an uneasy glance about the clearing. “You—you didn’t hear anything?” she asked.
“Hear anything? Why, no. What do you mean?”
Madge did not reply immediately for her sharp eyes were searching the line of trees which circled about the little cabin. Gradually, the tense lines of her face relaxed.
“Just as we came out, I thought I saw someone—right close to the cabin. For a minute, I was sure I heard a stick crackle.”
“Imagination!” Anne laughed. “The responsibility of keeping the book is making you nervous.”
“I guess so. Still, this hiding place doesn’t entirely suit me. Let’s go back and get it!”
“Nonsense!” Anne protested. “The place is all right. No use treating that book as though it were a bag of gold. Come along. I must be getting on home.”
Reluctantly, Madge permitted herself to be led away.
“All right,” she gave in, “but if anything happens, don’t blame me!”