Doris exclaimed and shrank back from the darkness of the place. Then seized with a true girl’s impulse, she took a fishing line and hook from her knicker pocket and angled until she drew Johnny’s handkerchief up from those forbidding depths.
“What’s to be learned from that?” Dorn asked.
“Probably nothing,” replied Doris. “Anyway I have his handkerchief to remember him by if he is never seen again, haven’t I?”
“Remember him? You’ve never seen him.”
“But I can remember him all the same.”
This point Dorn did not care to discuss. So they moved onward over the moss grown roof of the ancient fortress until they stood upon the exact spot at which the shadowy giant of the night before had appeared.
“He stood right here,” said Dorn in an awed tone. “He moved right along there. And the little fellow, the bearer of the brass telescope, followed after.”
Doris had heard the story of the mysterious walking giant twice before, but to be standing at the very spot where the vision had appeared gave her an added thrill.
The sun was setting. Already half the world was in shadows. As she stood there she found her knees trembling.
“Let’s get away from here.” She moved forward unsteadily.