in the woods which rose
abruptly from behind the house. So still was the brilliant forest that
a falling leaf startled him and a scurrying creature among the bushes
set his nerves tingling. Then it was that the haunting face and voice
of the girl in the little yellow house rose again with an insistence
that could not be disregarded. It dominated his thought; it was part
of this strange sense of shadowy and coming events; it refused to be
set aside.

It did not mock him--he could have dealt with that phase--it pleaded.
It seemed to implore him to accept it along with his quickened pulses;
the colour of the autumn day; the sweetness of the smell of crushed
leaves; the sound of lapping water; the song of birds.

"I wonder who she is, and why she looks as she does?"

Northrup ceased to scoff at his fancy; he wooed it. He pictured the
girl's hair loose from the rough cap--curly, rather wild hair with an
uplift in every tendril. What colour was it? Gold-brown probably, like
the eyes. For five minutes he tried to decide this but knew that he
would have to see it again to make sure.

The face was a small face, but it was strong and unutterably
appealing. A hungry little face; a face whose soul was ill-nourished,
a contradictory face.

Northrup called himself to order just here. He wasn't going to be an
ass, not if he could help it!

"Strange voice!" he thought on. "It had _calls_ in it. I _am_ an ass!"
he admitted, and in order to get the better of the situation he turned
sharply and went back to the inn.

CHAPTER II

Northrup decided to refrain from asking questions. Long ago he
discovered that he could gain more from a receptive state of mind than
an inquiring one.

He began to understand his peculiar mental excitement. Manly was
right. All that was needed to bring about complete recovery was
detachment and opportunity for his machinery to get into action. He
knew the signs. The wheels were beginning to turn!

Now from Northrup's point of view this was all right; but his sudden
appearance in a place where bad roads and no reason for coming usually
kept people out, caused a ripple to reach from the inn to the Point
and even the Mines, twelve miles away.

The people took time before accepting strangers; they had not yet
digested Maclin, and in silent disapproval they regarded Northrup as
in some way connected with Maclin.

The mine owner had been more or less familiar to the Forest for
several years: h