"Oh, oh, yes," replied the lady. "You know in the West a squatter claims complete rights to the land he has settled on. I hope Mr. Gayne hasn't established an ownership up there that will make us seem like intruders. We thought we would like to see this exciting place." "'Tain't exciting," said Matt Blake with another shake of the head. "It's asleep and snoring, the Dexter farm is." "Who does own the place?" asked Diana with interest. "It would take a pretty smart lawyer to find that out," was the reply. "It's been in litigation longer than it's been haunted. There's three women, I believe, pullin' and haulin' on it." "I think I might pull and haul, too, if I find I like it," said Diana with her most dreamy serenity, and Matt Blake laughed. "Well, you won't," he returned. "'Twould give a body the Injun blues to live there. How Mr. Gayne can stand it even in the daytime is a mystery to me; and there don't either o' the claimants really want it. They live around the State somewheres. I s'pose it would be hard to buy 'em out at that, because landowners here seem to think the island's goin' to turn into a regular Newport and that they'll make a fortune if they only hang on." "Do not speak such desecrating words!" begged Diana. "Do not hint at waking the island from its alluring, scented dream." Matt Blake gave her a patient stare. "Just as you say," he returned. He had already, as a fruit of many interviews with Diana, given her up as a conundrum. He tipped his hat and continued on his way. The two companions pursued theirs, and soon came to where a rather steep hill led down to the northern beach. "Now, we do not go down there unless we wish to be 'set across.' That is what they call it: set across to the next island, our near neighbor." "We must do it some day," replied Mrs. Lowell, looking at that other green hill rising out of the sea. As they stood gazing, they saw a man run across the rocks on its shore and hail a rowboat which came to meet him. "It is within rowing distance, isn't it?" said Mrs. Lowell. "Yes. Little Genevieve told me, one can always find some fisherman who is willing to act as a ferry." Diana looked about. "I think we shall be obliged to ask our path to the farm. Let us go to that cottage over there. It is probably on our way." They proceeded to a house near the road where cats and chickens seemed equally numerous, and knocked. "Will you tell us how to get to the Dexter farm?" asked Diana of the woman who answered the summons. The woman pointed. "You go right up that way to Brook Cove and you'll really be on the farm then if you keep to the right bank. You'll see the old house near a big willow tree." They thanked her and moved on. "What pleasant voices these people have," said Diana. "They have not been obliged to shout above clanging trolleys and auto horns." "No; all except Genevieve," returned Mrs. Lowell. "I should guess that she had been brought up in a boiler factory."