XXIX The Homing of Carolyn May 307 XXX The House of Bewilderment 313 ILLUSTRATIONS “Mandy! Mandy!” he murmured over and over again (Page 119) Frontispiece She had watched the huge vessel sweep off from the dock 74 “Do people that get drownd-ed feel much pain?” 196 “You aren’t mad at each other any more, are you?” 280 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS CHAPTER I—THE RAY OF SUNLIGHT Just as the rays of the afternoon sun hesitated to enter the open door of Joseph Stagg’s hardware store in Sunrise Cove, and lingered on the sill, so the little girl in the black frock and hat, with twin braids of sunshiny hair on her shoulders, hovered at the entrance of the dim and dusty place. She carried a satchel in one hand, while the fingers of the other were hooked into the rivet-studded collar of a mottled, homely mongrel dog, who likewise looked curiously into the dusky interior of Mr. Stagg’s shop, and whose abbreviated tail quivered expectantly. “Oh, dear me, Prince!” sighed the little girl, “this must be the place. We’ll just _have_ to go in. Of course, I know he must be a nice man; but he’s _such_ a stranger!” She sighed again; but Prince whined eagerly. He seemed much more sanguine of a welcome than did his mistress. Her feet faltered over the doorsill and paced slowly down the shop between the long counters, each step slower than its predecessor. She saw no clerk; only the littered counters, the glass-enclosed showcases, the low bins of nails and bolts on either hand, and the high shelves filled with innumerable boxes, on the end of each of which was a sample piece of hardware. At the back of the shop was a small office closed in with grimy windows. There was not much light there. The uncertain visitor and her canine companion saw the shadowy figure of a man inside the office, sitting on a high stool and bent above a big ledger. The dog, however, scented something else. The hair on his neck began to bristle, and he sniffed inquiringly. In the half darkness of the shop he and his little mistress came unexpectedly upon what Prince considered his arch-enemy. There rose up on the end of the counter nearest the open office door a big, black tom-cat whose arched back, swollen tail, and yellow eyes blazing defiance, proclaimed his readiness to give battle to the quivering dog. “Ps-s-st—ye-ow!” The rising yowl broke the silence of the shop like a trumpet-call. The little girl dropped her bag and seized the dog’s collar with both hands. “Prince!” she cried, “don’t you speak to that cat—don’t you _dare_ speak to it!” The dog quivered all over in an ague of desire. The instincts of the chase possessed his doggish soul, but his little mistress’ word was law to him. “Bless me!” croaked a voice from the office.