clicked behind her.

As she reached the first turning toward her own home, she looked off in
the other direction, where the schoolhouse stood. It was several blocks
away, and Marjorie was thinking how she would run over there the next
morning. And then a crazy thought jumped into her brain. Why not go now?
Then she could study this evening, after all. It was dark, to be sure,
but it was not so very late,--not eight o'clock yet.

The thought of entering the empty schoolhouse, alone, and in utter
darkness, gave her a thrill of fear, but she said to herself:

"How foolish! There's nothing to be afraid of in an empty schoolhouse.
I can feel my way to our classroom, and the street lights will shine in
some, anyway. Pooh, I guess I wouldn't be very brave if I was afraid of
nothing! And just to think of having that book to-night! I can get it
and be back home in twenty minutes. I believe I'll do it!"

Marjorie hesitated a moment at the corner. Then she turned away from her
home and toward the schoolhouse, and took a few slow steps.

"Oh, pshaw!" she said to herself. "Don't be a coward, Marjorie Maynard!
There's nothing to hurt you, and if you scoot fast, it won't take ten
minutes to get that book."

In a sudden accession of bravery, Marjorie started off at a brisk pace.

As she went on, her courage ebbed a little, but a dogged determination
kept her from turning back.

"I won't be a baby, or a 'fraid cat!" she said angrily, to herself. "I'm
not doing anything wrong, and there's no reason at all to be frightened.
But I do wish it wasn't so dark."

The part of town where the school stood was less thickly settled than
where Marjorie lived, and she passed several vacant lots. This made it
seem more lonely, and the far-apart street lights only seemed to make
darker the spaces between.

But Marjorie trudged on, grasping the key, and roundly scolding herself
for being timid.

CHAPTER IX

A REAL ADVENTURE

When at last she stood on the stone steps of the schoolhouse, her
courage returned, and, without hesitation, she thrust the key in the
lock of the door.

It turned with a harsh, grating sound, and the little girl's heart beat
rapidly as she pushed open the heavy door. The hall was as black as a
dungeon, but by groping around she found the banister rail, and so made
her way upstairs.

Her resolution was undaunted, but the awful silence of the empty, dark
place struck a chill to her heart. She ran up the s