But Russ seemed to grow braver by the minute. And Rose of course could not fail to be inspired by his show of courage. They walked along the path hand in hand, and although they did not speak much for the next few moments, when they did speak it was quite cheerfully. "I wish she would yell again," said Russ at last. "For we must be getting near to where she was." "We-ell, if she isn't a ghost----" Just then the silence of the wood was broken again by the cry. The boy and the girl halted involuntarily. No matter how brave Russ might appear to be, there was a tone to that scream that made shivers go up and down his back. "Oh, Russ!" cried Rose. "Oh, Rose!" stammered her brother. The scream came from so near that it seemed worse than before. And now Russ was shaken in his proclaimed opinion. It did not seem that any woman, no matter how great her distress might be, could make such a terrible sound. "I guess we'd better go back," confessed Russ after a minute. Rose was eager to do so. They turned and, hand in hand, began to run. And in their haste they somehow missed the path they had been following. Or else, it had not been a path at all. At least, after running so far that they should have reached the burned cabin they came out into quite a different clearing! They both knew that they had missed the way, for in this clearing stood a little cabin with a pitched roof that neither of the Bunker children had ever seen before. Nor was the wide brook in sight. "I guess we've got turned around," Russ said, trying to hide his disappointment and fear from his sister. "We've got to go back, Rose." "Do you know which is back?" she asked. "We've got to hunt for that old path." "Don't you leave me, Russ Bunker!" cried Rose, as her brother started away. And just then both of them saw the tawny, long tailed, slinking beast in the edge of the thicket. "Oh! It's a bear!" shrieked Rose. "Bears don't look like that," gasped Russ, staring at the great, glowing eyes of the animal. "It looks more like a cat." "There never was a cat as big as that, Russ Bunker, and you know it!" "Come on, Rose," said her brother promptly. "We'll go into that house and shut the door. It can't get us then, whatever it is." In a moment the two children had dashed into the cabin and pulled to the swinging door. The door had a lock on the outside, and when Russ banged the door shut he heard the lock snap. "Now it can't get at us!" cried Russ with some satisfaction. "We're safe." "But--but I don't like this old house, Russ Bunker," complained Rose. "There is no window." "All the better," was the brave reply. "That cat can't get at us." Then the screech sounded again and the boy and girl clung together while the sound echoed through the lonesome timber. "It's that thing that makes the noise," whispered Rose. "Oh, Russ! if Daddy Bunker doesn't come after us, maybe it will tear the house down." "It can't," declared Russ. "How do you know it can't?"