At that moment he had turned in the act of descending, when he saw in the moonlight beyond a form running swiftly toward the Pass. Westy caught his breath and wondered if the form had espied him. In the next second he knew that it had not, for he was invisible in the darkness where he stood. And he gave thanks to the supercilious Silver Queen reigning over the heavens that night for her timely partiality. He crouched and waited after having climbed down almost to the trail. Nearer and nearer the steps came, light and quick, almost panther-like in action. Finally as a gust of wind would strike one going past a cavern, so the form rushing past Westy felt like a stray breeze in that calm night. Removing his shoes, he started in pursuit of the fleeing figure. His feet, encountering the sharp rocks along the way, soon became too bruised to keep in step with this spooky object. After putting his shoes back on, he took up the chase once more as quietly as possible and came at last to the fork in the trail. The pursued one went straight up the trail to the hollow, as though it was thoroughly familiar to him, never once looking back or stumbling on the way. He just seemed to be rushing blindly on. Westy peered from behind a rock and perceived that the form was not likely to be aware of him now, for his own individual interests and motives seemingly occupied his whole thought and attention. So Westy rushed down and around the lake not caring if the figure did see him, for his whole duty now lay in the direction of the Inn. As he came forward, Uncle Jeb and Artie who were sitting up conversing in low tones, looked at him indifferently. “Uncle Jeb!” whispered Westy, breathless and excited. “Uncle Jeb! I think that the Inn’s on fire!” “Yuh don’t mean to say!” Uncle Jeb gasped in astonishment. “How d’ye know, boy?” Westy pointed over toward the Pass and there beyond it and overhead was the reflection in the sky, now a flaming scarlet. “I saw it from the Pass,” Westy continued, as if to explain. “I’m perfectly sure of it, Uncle Jeb; that is where it is. And I saw something else in the Pass too----” Before Westy could finish his story, Uncle Jeb had nudged his arm and pointed above them to the hollow. They all looked and could not repress the chills that ran up and down their spines. There in the bright light of the moon was the ghost-like figure of a man descending from the precipice into the hollow on a rope! CHAPTER XXXVI—WESTY CIRCUMVENTS A GHOST? For a few tense moments they stood, staring and unmoved, as if glued to the very spot. The apparition had disappeared within the hollow and it seemed to them that, perhaps after all, it was only a spirit they had seen hovering over the precipice. Suddenly Artie broke the spell. “Spirits don’t generally use ropes, do they?” he asked naively, as if he had been thinking it over seriously.