ere and not seeing things that are there."

"Honey," said Billy, "that's all right. But I want you to understand me
and I don't want you, to make any mistake. I saw a girl."

"And don't forget this," answered Honey. "I heard one."

Billy made no allusion to any of this with the other three men. But for
the rest of the day, he had a return of his gentle good humor. Honey's
spirits fairly sizzled.

That night Frank Merrill suddenly started out of sleep with a yelled,
"What was that?"

"What was what?" everybody demanded, waking immediately to the panic in
his voice.

"That cry," he explained breathlessly, "didn't you hear it?" Frank's
eyes were brilliant with excitement; he was pale.

Nobody had heard it. And Ralph Addington and Pete Murphy, cursing
lustily, turned over and promptly fell asleep again. But Billy Fairfax
grew rapidly more and more awake. "What sort of a cry?" he asked. Honey
Smith said nothing, but he stirred the fire into a blaze in preparation
for a talk.

"The strangest cry I ever heard, long-drawn-out, wild--eerie's the word
for it, I guess," Frank Merrill said. As he spoke, he peered off into
the darkness. "If it were possible, I should say it was a woman's
voice."

The three men walked away from the camp, looked off into every direction
of the starlit night. Nowhere was there sign or sound of life.

"It must have been gulls," said Honey Smith.

"It didn't sound like gulls," answered Frank Merrill. For an instant he
fell into meditation so deep that he virtually forgot the presence
of the other two. "I don't know what it was," he said finally in an
exasperated tone. "I'm going to sleep."

They walked back to camp. Frank Merrill rolled himself up in a blanket,
lay down. Soon there came from his direction only the sound of regular,
deep breathing.

"Well, Honey," Billy Fairfax asked, a note of triumph in his voice, "how
about it?"

"Well, Billy," Honey Smith said in a baffled tone, "when you get the
answer, give it to me."

Nobody mentioned the night's experience the next day. But a dozen times
Frank Merrill stopped his work to gaze out to sea, an expression of
perplexity on his face.

The next night, however, they were all waked again, waked twice. It was
Ralph Addington who spoke first; a kind of hoarse grunt and a "What the
devil was that?"

"What?" the others called.

"Damned if I know," Ralph answered. "If you wouldn't think I was off my
conch, I'd say it was a gang of women