door. Rutlidge probably noticed it when he was prowling about the
place, and was trying to roast me for my carelessness."

Conrad Lagrange stared stupidly at the key in his hand. "Well I _am_
damned," he muttered. Then added, in savage and--as it seemed to the
artist--exaggerated wrath, "I'm a stupid, blundering, irresponsible old
fool." Nor was he consoled when the painter innocently assured him that no
harm had resulted from his carelessness.

That night, as the two men sat on the porch, watching the last of the
light on the mountain tops, they heard again the cry of fear and pain that
came from the little house hidden in the depths of the orange grove.
Wonderingly they listened. Once more it came--filled with shuddering
terror.

When the sound was not repeated, Conrad Lagrange thoughtfully knocked the
ashes from his pipe. "Poor soul," he said. "Those scars did more than
disfigure her beautiful face. I'll wager there's a sad story there, Aaron.
It's strange how I am haunted by the impression that I ought to know her.
But I can't make it come clear. Heigho,"--he added a moment later as if to
free his mind from unpleasant thoughts,--"I'll be glad when we are safely
up in the hills yonder. Do you know, old man, I feel as though we're
getting away just in the nick of time. My back hair and the pricking of my
thumbs warn me that your dearly beloved spooks are combining to put up
some sort of a spooking job on us. I hope Yee Kee has a plentiful supply
of joss-sticks to stand 'em off, if they get too busy while we are gone."

Aaron King laughed quietly in the dusk, as he returned "And I have a
presentiment that those precious members of our household are preparing to
accompany us to the hills. I feel in my bones that something is going to
happen up there"--he pointed to the distant mountains, then added--"to me,
at least. I feel as though I were about to bid myself good-by--if you know
what I mean. I hope that donkey of ours isn't a psychic donkey, or, if he
is, that he'll listen to reason and be content with his escorts of flesh
and blood."

As he finished speaking, the quiet of the evening was broken by a lusty,
"Hee-haw, hee-haw," in front of the house.

"There, I told you so!" ejaculated the painter.

Laughing, the two men followed Czar down the walk, in the dark, to
receive the shaggy, long-eared companion for their wanderings.

As many a man has done--Aaron King had spoken, in jest, more truth than he
knew.