"I am very much obliged to you," she said, rising.

"Oh, that's all right--no trouble at all. And now, if you will just
excuse me, I 'll go and finish up around the place. If you want to go
to bed before I get through, you will find a candle in the top bunk. I
have n't got an extra lantern."

So saying he took his leave. He put three of the coyote lanterns on
their poles at the corners of the pen, unwrapped the red cloth from the
fourth and used it to light his way over to the shed. He came back,
wrapped the red around it again, and hoisted it to its place at the top
of the pole. A watchful ram _baaed_ awesomely as it rose.

Janet's shoe had been hurting her unmercifully. She had not been able
to compose herself in any way without in some degree sitting on her
foot; and it had kept up a throbbing pain. As she stood up, it seemed
to reach new heights of aching and burning. She decided that she had
better take possession of the shack at once; so she got the candle and
lit it at the fire. The first thing she did upon entering was to
remove her shoes. The relief was a luxury. The door had no means of
locking; the wooden latch lifted from the outside. Having latched it,
she sat down on the edge of the bunk.

Her shack! But after a little this inward exclamation began to take
the form of a question. Suddenly she rose and looked at the top bunk.
The blue blanket was still there. She was very tired. After sitting a
while in thought, she put the corner of the red blanket over her feet
and lay down, letting the candle burn. She was sleepy as well as
tired; but she kept her eyes upon the door. It was really his place,
not hers. And that made it all so different--after all.

Of all our protectors, there is none whose rumorous presence is more
potent than the Spirit of the Threshold. His speech is a whisper, and
before his airy finger even the desperado quails. Thus doors are
stronger than they seem, and a house, if there is no other need of it,
is an excellent formality. The accusing Spirit stands aside only for
the owner.

Janet kept her eyes half open, watching that ancient mark between Mine
and Thine.

CHAPTER IV

Janet, opening her eyes upon daylight, sat up drowsily and looked
about. How long she had been sleeping she had not the least idea. Her
windowless chamber, all shot through with sunlight, presented a
surprising array of cracks, and the slanting beams told her that the
sun was w