oes to New York, then we
go, too."

* * * * *

While hundreds of birds made ready for a long night in the elm trees,
the twins turned silent. Flukey lay with his eyes closed in pain. The
girl broke the quietude now and then by muttering softly the names on
the gravestones over which her eyes roved:

"EVERETT BRIMBECOMB
ONE YEAR OLD
BELOVED SON OF AGNES AND HAROLD BRIMBECOMB.
RESTING IN JESUS"

Flea read this over several times, and turned to Flukey.

"Who's Jesus, Fluke?" she asked.

The boy raised his head and opened his eyes languidly. "What? What'd ye
say, Flea?"

"Who's Jesus?" she asked again, pointing to the inscription on the
stone.

"I dunno. I guess he's some old feller layin' down in there with that
kid."

Thus the day had passed and the night fell. Flukey dropped into a deep
sleep, and Flea, huddling to the cold earth, settled closer to her
brother in the sheltering darkness. Suddenly the girl aroused as if from
a bad dream. She sat up, feeling for the pig and Snatchet, and placed
her hand on Flukey's quiet body and lay down. Once more came the sound.
It was the faint, distant hoot of an owl, stealing out through the tall
trees. Nearer and nearer it came, until Flea sat bolt upright. Instantly
into her mind shot the picture of a shriveled woman from the squatter
country. A cold perspiration broke over her.

She turned her head slowly and looked off into the dark end of the
cemetery, over which hung a mist. Through this veil the pale moon
watched the earth with steady gaze. From among the monuments and
time-scarred headstones, looming darkly in the forbidding silence, an
apparition arose, and to Flea's vivid imagination it seemed as if
voiceless gray ghosts were peopling God's Acre on all sides. She
recoiled in horror as the strange, wild cry drew nearer.

A hysterical sensation burning in her throat tightened it so she could
not speak to Flukey, nor could she drag her eyes from the thing moving
toward her. Snatchet growled; but Flea pressed his jaws together with a
snap, and the sound died in his throat. Squeaky moved slightly among the
dead leaves, then became quiet again. The phantom-like figure passed
almost near enough to touch the rigid girl. Its lips opened, and a
hoarse, owl-like cry aroused the sleepy birds above.

"It's Screechy!" murmured Flea, dropping back in fear. "She's com