“Betty,” Grace looked at her in sudden alarm, her eyes wide, “you don’t suppose that the professor could have done anything! anything rash, do you?” “You mean!!” said Betty, hesitating before the ugly word. “Oh, Grace, you don’t mean! suicide, do you?” Grace nodded and tried hard not to look as frightened as she felt. “No, I! I don’t think so,” said Betty, grasping the wheel with hands that somehow seemed suddenly weak. “If I thought anything like that had happened I wouldn’t have the courage to go on.” “Well, I don’t believe I have! the courage, I mean,” said Grace, irresolutely. “Don’t you think we had better go back, Betty? It’s so lonesome here and! and! everything!!” Her voice was rising to something like a wail, and Betty, striving to throttle her own misgivings, spoke in a voice that was intended to be reassuring. “We wouldn’t think very much of ourselves if we turned back now,” she said. “And probably we are worrying a great deal about nothing. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would do a thing like that.” Grace said no more about turning back, and they were silent for the rest of the way. But instead of lightening, the cloud of depression became deeper and more foreboding until even the stout Little Captain began almost to wish that they had not come. CHAPTER IX. A VISITOR When they came to the scene of what was so nearly a terrible accident a week or so before they found that the big tree which had extended clear across the road was gone and that the underbrush also had been cleared away. They stopped the cars a little the other side of the path that led into the woods and slowly stepped down into the road. When they caught sight of each other’s faces they began to laugh shakily. “We certainly look as if we were going on a ghost hunt,” Mollie said. At this Grace uttered a little cry of protest. The thought had struck too near her own disquieting thoughts to be comfortable. “For goodness’ sake, somebody say something cheerful,” she begged. “I’ve got to get up my courage some way.” “Well, I haven’t any to lend you,” grumbled Mollie, as she linked her arm in Betty’s and the two went along toward the path. “I don’t like this job a little bit.” “Don’t you think,” suggested Amy, holding back a little, “that somebody ought to stay here and take care of the cars?” “No, you don’t!” said Mollie, catching her by the hand and pulling her along after them. “If one of us goes we are all going.” “Oh, come along,” urged Betty, eager to get the thing over with. “I think we are all acting like a lot of geese. It might help some if we tried to remember that we are Outdoor Girls.” This challenge did a great deal toward bolstering up the girls’ courage and they hurried along the path more confidently, Their pace slowed a bit, however, when they reached the cleared space where the little cottage stood and they paused for a moment in the shelter of the trees to discuss what to do next.