Mrs. Coombe had been in the city a week when one morning Ann, who was feeling lonely without Jane, sat swinging upon the five-barred gate and whistling intermittently for Bubble. She had become very tired of waiting. She knew that Bubble could hear. The five-barred gate was within easy hearing distance of the house, and both doors and windows of the office were open. Therefore it became each moment more evident that the whistles were being deliberately ignored.

"Horrid, nasty boy!" exclaimed Ann, climbing to a precarious seat on the highest of the five bars. "Well, if he waits until I come to get him, he'll—just wait!"

It was very hot on the gate. The vacant field on the other side, where the Widow Peel pastured her cow, was hot, too, but if one cut across the field and circled the back of the Widow Peel's cottage one substantially lessened the distance between oneself and the cool deliciousness of the river. The Widow Peel was near-sighted and hardly ever noticed one rushing over her beds of lettuce and carrots and onions, or if she did, she could not "fit a name to 'em."

Ann sighed and swung her brown legs. Should she or should she not go in search of Bubble? Going would mean a distasteful swallowing of proper pride; not going would mean—no Bubble. It would be a case of cutting off one's nose—Ann's small white teeth came together with a little click.

"I'll go. But I'll pay him out afterwards."

With this thoroughly feminine decision she tumbled off the gate, raced across the orchard and, having paused a moment to regain breath and poise, appeared casually at the office door. The office looked cool and empty; Bubble was not upon his official stool. Perhaps, after all, he had not heard the whistles! Perhaps—

"What d'ye want?" asked a gruff voice from behind the desk.

Ann jumped, and then tried to look as if she hadn't.

"I knew you were there!" she said. "But just you wait till the doctor catches you at it!" Mounting the step she frowned across at Bubble who, in the doctor's favourite attitude, was reclining in the doctor's chair. "I suppose you think you look like him, but you don't, nor act like him either. If he was sitting there and a lady came in, he'd be up too quick for anything. And if the lady was polite and stayed on the doorstep (just like I am) he would say, 'Pray come in, madam,' and then he'd set a chair and—"

"Oh, cut it out!" Bubble's dignity collapsed with his attitude. The tilted chair came down with a bang and its occupant settled himself more naturally upon a corner of the desk. "Don't bother me! I can't come out. Doctor's away. Some one's got to attend to business. See those medicines? Well, don't you go handling them! This here is for Lizzie Stephens (measles), and that there is for Mrs. Nixon (twins). If they got mixed I'd be responsible. Run away!"

"Where's the doctor?" asked Ann, ignoring.

"The doctor is out. You needn't wait. He won't be back all day."

"Where'd he go?"

"Little girls mustn't ask questions!"

Ann's small face wrinkled into an elfish grin. "I know where he's gone," she said slyly.

"Yes, you do!" This sarcastic comment was Bubble's most emphatic negative.

"Very well, then, I don't."

Not to be outdone, Ann volunteered no further information. She sat down on the step and waited.

Bubble busied himself with tying up the bottles. Presently he stepped out from behind the desk.

"Think you can mind the office while I run around with these medicines?" he asked sternly.

"Sure!" Ann's assent was placid.

"What'll you say if any one comes and asks for the doctor—or me?"

"You're out delivering medicines and the doctor's been called away very sudden."

"What'll you tell them if they ask you what he's been called away to?"

"Oh, I'll just say they needn't worry, 'tisn't anything catching."

Bubble allowed his face to relax. He even displayed a grudging admiration for this feminine diplomacy.

"And you wouldn't be telling lies, either," he remarked approvingly.
"All the same," with a return to gloom, "we can't keep it a secret.
Folks are bound to find out. You can bet your eyes on that!"

Ann nodded. "I expect most of them know by now. Any one that wanted to could see them. He didn't seem to care. They drove right down the main street and you could see the picnic basket sticking out at the side!"

"O cricky! Isn't that just like him? You'd think he wanted the whole town to know he'd gone off picnicking with a girl. But I'd have thought Esther Coombe would have better sense!"

"It wasn't Esther's fault. She couldn't act as if she was ashamed of him, could she? When a gentleman asks a lady to go out in his automobile she can't ask him to drive down the back streets."

"If he had only taken her at night!" groaned the harassed junior partner. "But no, he must take a whole day off and him with two patients on his hands. Look at me! Have I ever asked off to go on any picnics? Not on your tintype. Business is business. Doctors can't fool round like other folks."

Ann nodded agreement. Things were coming her way very nicely. She glanced at the wrathy Bubble out of the corners of her eyes. "I didn't think he'd be mean like that," she remarked craftily.

"Like what? He isn't mean!"

"To make you stay in all day."

"He didn't. Not him! He gave me fifty cents and told me to take a day off. 'Just run around with the medicine, Bubble,' says he, 'and then you can hike it. I have a feeling in my bones,' he says, 'that nobody's going to die to-day.'"

"Well, then—"

"A man has a sense of duty for all that."

"Well," rising with a dejected air, "if you're not coming, good-bye. It will be lovely paddling! Aunt's given me some lettuce sandwiches and two apple turnovers. One was for you, but I suppose I can eat them both. The sugar's leaked all round the edge—lovely!"

The stern disciple of business watched her tie on her sun-bonnet with mingled feelings. It began to look as if she was really going!

"Good-bye," said Ann.

Bubble's red face grew a shade redder.

"Just like a girl!" he said bitterly. "Because a man's got to deliver two medicine bottles, off she goes and won't wait for him. And the farthest I've got to go is over to Mrs. Nixon's. The whole thing won't take five minutes."

Sun-bonnets are splendid things for hiding the face! Had Bubble seen
that slow smile of victory there is no telling what might have happened.
But he did not see it. And Ann was too good a general to exult openly.
Her answer was carefully careless. "I'll wait—if you'll hurry up!"

But the look which she threw after his hastily retreating figure was as old as Eve.

Meanwhile the doctor and Esther, who had been so criminally careless of professional appearances as to drive down Main Street with a picnic basket protruding, were enjoying themselves with an enjoyment peculiar to careless people. Esther had forgotten about the pile of uncorrected school exercises which were supposed to form her Saturday's work; the doctor had forgotten about the measles and the twins. Rain had fallen in the night and the dust was laid, the trees were intensely green.

Neither of them knew exactly how this pleasant thing had come about, although, as a matter of crude fact, Mrs. Sykes had played the part of the god from the machine. This energetic lady had made the doctor's professional career her peculiar care and it had occurred to her that, as a resident physician, he was disgracefully ignorant of the surrounding country. At the same moment she had remembered that to-morrow was Saturday, and that for trapesing the country and meandering around in outlandish places there was no one in town equal to Esther Coombe.

"But," objected the doctor, "I hardly know Miss Coombe well enough to ask a favour of her."

Mrs. Sykes opined that that didn't matter. "Land sakes," she declared, "it would be a nice state of affairs if one huming-being couldn't do a kindness to another without being acquainted a year or two." Besides, Esther, as the old doctor's daughter, might almost be said to have a duty toward the newcomer. Mrs. Sykes felt sure that Dr. Coombe would have insisted upon proper attentions being shown, since he was always "the politest man you ever saw, and terrible nice to strangers."

Mrs. Sykes also, with the assistance of Aunt Amy, had provided the large basket. They might not need it all, but then again they might. It was best to be prepared. And, anyway, no one should ever say that she, Mrs. Sykes, "skimped" her boarders' meals. As for the big shawl, once belonging to a venerated ancestress, it is always safe to take a big shawl on a country trip even in June heat with the thermometer going up.

The doctor agreed to everything, even the shawl. Whether one is taking a rest cure or not, it is distinctly pleasant to look forward to a day in the country with a lovely girl. Esther had taken his request quite simply. It seemed only natural to her that he should wish to explore, while the invitation to act as guide was frankly welcomed. Indeed her girlish gaiety in the prospect had shown very plainly that such holidays had been rare of late. School did not "keep" on Saturday, Jane was away, and Aunt Amy was so much better that she could leave her without misgiving. Bubble alone prophesied disaster, and at him they all laughed.

There is a little folder published by the Town Council which gives a very good idea of the country around Coombe. We might quote this, but it will be much better for you to go some time and see things for yourself. Dr. Callandar saw a great deal that day, but was never very clear afterwards in his descriptions. It was rocky in spots, he knew, and wild and sweet and piney. And there were little lakes. He remembered the lakes particularly because—well, because of what came later.

They had their lunch on the shores of a jewel-like bay, sitting upon the
shawl of Mrs. Sykes' grandmother. Esther had many memories of the place.
She had often camped there with her father. But it had been wilder then.
Once a bear had come right up to the door of her tent.

"By Jove!" said the doctor enviously, "what did you do?"

"I said 'shoo'!"

"And did he?"

"Yes, he did. He was a nice bear, very obedient. Some days later father and I saw Mrs. Bear trot across the clearing with two baby bears behind. They were moving. I think Mr. Bear was looking for a house when he called on me."

Altogether it was a magic day. There is an erroneous belief that magic has died out of the world. But in our hearts we all know better. Which of us has not lived through the magic hours of a magic day? Which of us does not know that land, unmapped, unnamed, a land whose sun is brighter, whose grass is greener, whose sky is bluer, and whose every road runs into a golden mist? Magic land it must be, for much seeking cannot find it. No one, not the wisest nor the best, may enter it at will; but for every one at some time the unseen gate swings open, birds sing, flowers bloom, the glory and the dream descend! Poor indeed, unutterably poor and cheated of his heritage is he who has not passed that way.

They were not in love, of course. They were too happy for that. Love is the greatest thing in the world, but it is seldom quite happy. Esther and the doctor were not lovers but lingered in that deliciously unconscious state of "going-to-be-in-love-presently" which is nothing less than heavenly. Therefore they ate their lunch with appetite and laughed about the story of the bear. Both were surprised when the doctor's watch told them it was time to think of home.

They came back very slowly along the shaded trail to where the car stood waiting in the brilliant light of the declining sun.

"Just a moment," said the doctor, and cranked vigorously. A confusion of odd noises ensued, from which, somehow, the right noise did not emerge.

"Just a moment," he repeated. "There appears to be something loose—or tight—or something. If you'll just sit out on the grass a moment, Miss Esther, I'll see what it is."

Esther descended. The grass was just as pleasant to sit upon as the car seat and she knew nothing whatever about the tricky ways of motors.

"Just a moment," said Callandar for the third time, and disappeared behind the bonnet. Fifteen minutes after, he reappeared with a very hot face decorated fantastically with black.

"She's sulking," he announced gloomily.

"Is she?" Esther's tone held nothing save placid amusement.

"Just a moment." The doctor banged down the bonnet and effaced himself once more. This time under the body of the car.

Motors are mysterious things. Why a well-treated, not to say pampered, car which some hours before had been left in perfect condition and excellent temper should abruptly turn stubborn and refuse to fulfil its chief end is a problem which we shall not attempt to solve. Every one who has ever owned a motor knows that these things be.

The doctor, a modest man, considered himself a fair mechanician. In expansive moments he, who made nothing of his undoubted excellence in his own profession, was wont to boast that you couldn't teach him much about motors! He had laughed to scorn the remark of his Scotch chauffeur that "they things need a deal o' humourin'!" Humour a thing of cogs and screws? Absurd! One must master a motor, not humour her.

Half an hour later he emerged from the car's eclipse and sank, a pitiable figure, upon the grass beside Esther.

"Won't it go?" asked Esther dreamily. It had been very pleasant sitting there watching the sun set.

The master of motors made a tragic gesture. "No," he said, "she won't."

"Shake her," said Esther.

Dr. Callandar pushed back his sweat-bedewed hair with fingers which left a fearsome streak above his left eyebrow. The girl laughed. But the doctor's decorated face was rueful.

"Do you know, Miss Esther, I'm afraid it isn't a bit funny." His tone, too, was sober; and Esther, suddenly more fully alive to the situation, noticed that the hands clasped recklessly about the knees of once spotless trousers were shaking, just a little. He must be awfully tired!

"That's because you can't see yourself. Give the motor a rest. There is plenty of time. Let's have tea here instead of on the way home. There is cold tea and chicken-loaf, bread and butter, and half a tart."

The doctor brightened. "You may have the half-tart," he concluded generously. "And in return you will forgive me my pessimism. I believe I am hungry and thirsty and—if I could only swear I should be all right presently."

Esther put her small fingers in her ears and directed an absorbed gaze toward the sunset.

Callandar laughed.

"All over!" he called. "Richard is himself again. And now we have got to be serious. Painful as it is, I admit defeat. I can't make that car budge an inch. It won't move. We can't push it. We have no other means of conveyance. Deduction—we must walk!"

"Yes, only like most deductions, it doesn't get us anywhere. We can't walk."

"Not to Coombe of course. Merely to the nearest farm house."

"There isn't any nearest farm house."

"Then to the nearest common or garden house."

"I thought we were going to be serious. Really, there is no house within reasonable walking distance. We are quite in the wilds here. Don't you remember the long stretches of waste land we came through? No one builds on useless ground. The nearest houses of any kind are over on the other side of the lake. The beach is good there and there are a few summer cottages and a boarding house. Farther in is the little railway station of Pine Lake—"

"Jove! That's what we want! Why did you try to frighten me? Once let us reach the station and our troubles are over. There is probably an evening train into Coombe."

"There is. But we shall never catch it. We are on the wrong side of the lake. We have no boat. There is a trail around but it is absolutely out of the question, too far and too rough, even if we knew it, which we do not. It would take a woodsman to follow it even in daylight."

"But—" The doctor hesitated. He was beginning to feel seriously disturbed. It seemed impossible that they could be as isolated as Esther seemed to think. Distance is a small thing to a powerful motor eating up space with an effortless appetite, which deceives novice and expert alike. It is only when one looks back that one counts the miles. He remembered vaguely that the nearest house was a long way back.

"I'll have another try," he answered soberly, "and in the meantime, think—think hard! There may be some place you have forgotten. If not, we are in rather a serious fix."

"There are no bears now," said Esther.

"There are gossips!" briefly.

The girl laughed. The thought of possible gossip seemed to disturb her not at all. "Oh, it will be all right as soon as we explain," confidently. "But Aunt Amy will be terrified. If we could only get word to Aunt Amy! I don't mind so much about Mrs. Sykes, for she is always prepared for everything. She will comfort herself with remembering how she said when she saw it was going to be a lovely day: 'It may be a fine enough morning, Esther, but I have a feeling that something will happen before night. I have put in an umbrella in case of rain and a pair of rubbers and a rug and you'd better take my smelling salts. I hope you won't have an accident, I'm sure, but it's best to be forewarned.'"

The doctor glanced up from his tinkering to join in her laugh. He felt ashamed of himself. The possibility of evil tongues making capital of their enforced position had certainly never entered into the thought of this smiling girl. Yet that such a possibility might exist in Coombe as well as in other places he did not doubt. And she was in his charge. The thought of her clear eyes looking upon the thing which she did not know enough to dread made him feel positively sick!

When he spoke to her again there was a subtle change in his manner. He had become at once her senior, the physician, and man of the world.

"Miss Esther," he said, leaving his futile tampering with the machine, "I can see no way out of this but one. I am a good walker and a fast one. I shall leave you here with the car and the rugs and a revolver (there is one in the tool box), and go back along the road. I shall walk until I come to somewhere and then get a carriage or wagon—also a chaperone—and come back for you. It is positively the only thing to do."

Esther's charming mouth drooped delicately at the corners. "Oh no! That's not at all a nice plan. I'm afraid to stay here. Not of bears, but of tramps—or—or something."

"Where there are no houses there will be no tramps."

"There may be. You never can tell about tramps. And I couldn't shoot a tramp. The very best I could do would be to shoot myself—"

"But—"

"And I might bungle even that!" pathetically.

"But, my dear girl—"

"And anyway, I've thought of another plan. There is a place on the lake, on this side. Not a house exactly, but a log cabin, where old Prue lives. Did you ever hear of old Prue? She is a man-hater and a recluse and lives all by herself in the bush. It is a dreadful place and she keeps a fierce dog! But perhaps she keeps a boat, too. She must keep a boat," cheerfully, "because she lives right by the water and I know she fishes. If she would only let us have the boat! But I warn you she may refuse. She is like the witch in 'Hansel and Gretel.' Do you remember—"

But at the first mention of the boat, the doctor had sprung to action and was now standing ready laden with the basket and the rug. With the air of a man who has never heard of "Hansel and Gretel" he slipped a most businesslike revolver into a pocket of his coat. "For the dog, if necessary," he said. "We must have that boat! Is it far?"

"Quite a walk. About two miles through the bush. But I know the way and the trail is fairly good, or should be. It branches off from the one we took this morning."

The sun was gone when they turned back into the woods but the wonderful after-light of the long Canadian sunset would be with them for a good time yet. There was no breeze to stir the trees, but the air had cooled. It was not unpleasantly hot, now, even in the thickest places. The doctor stepped out briskly.

"Listen!" Esther paused with uplifted finger. The trees were very still but in the undergrowth the life of the woods was beginning to stir. Startled squirrels raced up the fallen logs, glancing backward with curious but resentful eyes. Hidden skirmishings and rustlings were everywhere and something brown and furry darted across the path with a faint cry.

"Don't you feel as if you were in some fairy country?" asked the girl. "You can feel and hear them all about you though they keep well hidden. A million eager eyes are watching, Lilliputian armies lie in ambush beneath the leaves. How quiet they are now that we have stopped moving, but as soon as we go on the hurry and skurry will break out afresh! We are the invading army and the fairies fly to help the wood-folk protect their homes."

As they branched into the deeper path the light grew dimmer. Outside, it would still be clear golden twilight but here the grey had come. And now the trees grew closer together and a whispering began—a weird and wonderful sighing from the soul of the forest; the old, primeval cry to the night and to the stars.

It was almost dark when they reached the tiny clearing by the lake. Across the cleared space the water could be seen, faintly luminous, with the black square of the cabin outlined against it. There was no sign of life or light from the dark windows. A dog began to bark sharply.

"He is chained!" said Callandar. "We are fortunate."

"How can you tell?"

"A free dog never barks in that tone. I think he has been a bad dog to-day. Killing chickens, perhaps, or chasing cats. A man-hater, like your old witch, is certain to have cats! I wonder where she is? Does she count going to bed at sundown as one of her endearing peculiarities?"

"Quite the contrary, I imagine. Let's knock."

They raced up the path to the door like children and struck some lusty blows. No one answered. The door was locked and every window was blank.

"Knock again!"

They knocked again, banged in fact, and then rattled the windows.

"She could never sleep through all that racket!" said Callandar with conviction. "She must be out. Well, out or in, we've got to get that boat. Let's explore—this path ought to lead to the lake."

"Shall we steal it?" in a delighted whisper.

"We probably shall. You won't mind going to jail, I hope?"

"Not at all!" The doctor was walking so rapidly that Esther was a little out of breath. "Only, the oars—are certain—to be locked—in the house!" she warned jerkily.

"Then we shall serve sentence for house breaking also."

"Oh, gracious!" Esther stumbled over the root of a tree and nearly fell. But the doctor only walked the faster. They scrambled together down the steep path and over the stretch of rocky beach to where the tiny float lay a black oblong on the water. The boat house was beside it.

"Eureka!" cried the doctor, springing forward.

But the door of the boat house was open and the boat was gone.