And then, as it had begun, the marvelous music died away into silence.
For ten minutes the girl stood motionless. Then, seeming to awake with a shudder to the darkness all about her, she snapped on her flashlight and went racing over the narrow moose trail leading away to the distant camping grounds of Duncan’s Bay.
CHAPTER V
PALE GREEN LIGHT
The little drama, in which Florence and Jeanne played major roles, continued.
Duncan’s Bay is primeval. Not an abandoned shack marks its shores, not a tree has been cut down. When darkness “falls from the wings of night” this bottle-green bay, reflecting the trees, shut in by the gloom of the forest, casts a spell over every soul who chooses to linger there.
It is a solitary spot. Six miles away, around a wind-blown, wave-washed point there are human habitations, none nearer. Little wonder, then, that the frail, blond-haired Jeanne should renew her pleading.
“Florence, let that thing go!”
The “thing” of course was a living creature caught on Florence’s hook at the end of the stout line.
“But Jeanne,” the big girl remonstrated, “I can’t let him go!”
“Cut the line!” Jeanne was insistent.