"but not 'The Ghoul.'"

"The Ghoul," I repeated with a shudder. "Ugh!--what a name. Who on
earth saddled it with such a horrible name?"

"Nobody on earth. Guess it must have been the devil in hell, for it's
a friend of his."

Her face grew pale and a nameless horror crept into her eyes.

"It ain't nice to look on now,--is it?"

"No!" I granted.

"You want to see it in the winter, when there's a storm tearing in,
with the sea crashing over it in a white foam and,--and,--people trying
to hang on to it. Oh!--I tell you what it is,--it's hellish, that's
all. It's well named The Ghoul,--it's a robber of the dead."

"Robber of the dead!--what do you mean?"

"Everybody but a stranger knows:--it robs them of a decent burial.
Heaps of men, and women too, have been wrecked out there, but only one
was ever known to come off alive. Never a body has ever been found
afterwards." She shivered and turned her head away.

For a while, I gazed at the horrible rock in fascination. What a
reminder it was to the poor human that there is storm as well as calm;
evil as well as good; that turmoil follows in the wake of quiet; that
sorrow tumbles over joy; and savagery and death run riot among life and
happiness and love!

At last, I also turned my eyes away from The Ghoul, with a strong
feeling of anger and resentment toward it. Already I loathed and hated
the thing as I hated nothing else.

I stood alongside the girl and we remained silent until the mood passed.

Then she raised her eyes to mine and smiled. In an endeavour to
forget,--which, after all, was easy amid so much sunshine and
beauty,--I reverted to our former conversation.

"You said you were seldom away from here. Don't you ever take a trip
to Vancouver?"

"Been twice. We're not strong on trips up here. Grand-dad goes to
Vancouver and Victoria once in a while. Grandmother's been here twenty
years and never been five miles from the ranch, 'cept once, and she's
sorry now for that once.

"Joe's the one that gets all the trips. You ain't met Joe. Guess when
you do you and him won't hit it. He always fights with men of your
size and build."

"Who is this Joe?" I asked. "He must be quite a man-eater."

"I ain't going to tell you any more. You'll know him when you see him.

"I'm going now. Would you like some fish? The trout were biting good
this morning. I've got more'n we need."

We went down to the shore together. There were between thirty