"I believe I rather like you, Beth, but I only have
your word for it that you are not like other girls. I have a big mind
to try you. Shall I?"

She was a little afraid to consent, but she was ashamed to show it. So
she delayed matters by asking "How?"

The boy drew down his face until it was very long, and when he spoke it
was in an awe-inspiring whisper.

"Swear never to tell what I tell you. Repeat after me, 'Harvey
Baker----'"

"Is that your name?"

"Yes--don't interrupt me. 'Harvey Baker, if I tell what you show me, I
hope I may be forever doomed and tortured.'"

Beth looked shocked. "I won't say that."

"'Fraid-cat. 'Fraid-cat."

Again she stamped her foot. "I won't be called that. It's not true.
I will promise not to tell. Can't you believe me?"

The boy considered. "Girls are hardly ever to be trusted, but I'll try
you. In this river there is a great, big, black animal that hates
fraid-cats as much as I do. He eats them up. Why, he has such fierce
jaws and sharp teeth that he could gobble up a little girl like you in
one mouthful."

Beth felt that her hair must be standing up on end. She would have run
away, had not pride detained her--and then the recital rather
fascinated her. Harvey continued, relishing the effect of his story:

"Now I have only to whistle to have the awful animal appear. His head
will slowly rise above the water. His jaws will open. His teeth will
gleam. If any little girl cries, he will snap at her, and it will be
good-bye girl. Now, if you are not a fraid-cat you'll say, 'Harvey
Baker, whistle.'"

She wanted to run more than ever, but instead she repeated slowly:

"Harvey Baker, whistle."

The boy pursed up his lips, but he then made an impressive pause, and
finally pointed his finger at Beth.

"Elizabeth Davenport, remember. If you give the least little bit of a
cry, you die. But, if you keep perfectly still, and never tell what
you see, I am your friend for life." Thereupon he whistled very
shrilly.

Beth's eyes were glued upon the water. Every little ripple seemed to
her excited imagination an awful head rising to gobble her up.
However, nothing appeared. Beth gave a sigh of relief.

"Harvey Baker, you were fooling."

He motioned to her to be silent. Again, he whistled. Still no
horrible head appeared. Beth was now fully convinced that he was only
making believe, but still she could not take her eyes off the water.

For the third ti