"Guess I'm going right across there this evening," the girl said quietly.
"Across the muskeg?" Her companion was roused out of himself. His usually lazy gray eyes were gleaming brightly. "Impossible!"
"Not at all, Bill," she replied, with an easy smile. "I know the path."
"But I thought there was only one man who ever knew that mythical path, and—he is dead."
"Quite right, Bill—only one man."
"Then the old stories—"
There was a peculiar expression on the man's face. The girl interrupted him with a gay laugh.
"Bother the 'old stories.' I'm going across there this evening after tea—coming?"
Bunning-Ford looked across at the clock—the hands pointed to half-past one. He was silent for a minute. Then he said,—
"I'll be with you at four if—if you'll tell me all about—"