“But it’s heavy,” she told herself. “I’d like to know what’s inside it, if anything at all. I’ll find out, too. You can make things unscrew, even if they’re terribly rusted, by putting kerosene on them. I’ve seen father do that. I’ll ask Vivian if I may try to do it, perhaps tomorrow.”
For a moment, lying there listening to the crackling of the fire in the stove below their room, she felt all comfortable and happy. She was in a strange little world, a fisherman’s world on Isle Royale. Everything was new and lovely. There were sleds and snowshoes, wild moose to trap, everything.
Then of a sudden her brow wrinkled. She had recalled the airplane in that dream. What did it mean? Then, as in a vision, she saw a circle, and inside the circle D.X.123.
“I saw it at the bottom of that little lost lake,” she told herself as a chill ran up her spine. “Anyway, I thought I saw it. And I must know!” She clenched her hands hard. “I must know for sure! I’ll just make Vivian come there with me. I’ll tell her to look down there, ask her to tell me what she sees, then I’ll know for sure whether it is real or only a sort of day-dream.
“I must,” she whispered, “must—must—must—”
Once again she was lost to the world, this time to a land of dreamless sleep.
When she awoke, Vivian was sitting up in bed.
“Hello, there!” was Vivian’s cheery greeting. “Sleep well?”
“Fine!” Jeanne laughed. “Everything seems strange, but I love it.”
“Not quite like a city,” Vivian agreed, “but we all like it. We seem so secure. Father earns enough in summer to buy flour, sugar, hams, bacon and lots of canned stuff, so we won’t go hungry. The lake brings us some wood and the ridges give us plenty more. We won’t get cold. So—”