She felt again the creeping sensation that had traveled up and down her spine at sight of that crouching, sinister figure that had sprung out from the shadow of the porch.

It had disappeared into the bushes last night, and, for all she knew—­ and the thought made her tingle weirdly—­ it might still be hiding in them, crouching, ready to spring

With an effort she shook off the mood and turned to Amy brightly.

“There is no use in our making a mountain out of a mole hill,” she said, plucking a wild rose as they swung by and smelling of its delicious fragrance.  “Last night, I admit, it seemed very terrifying to us, but that was probably because we couldn’t see what it was that frightened us.  It may just have been a large dog or something.”

“Humph,” sniffed Amy, sceptically, “it must have been a monster dog.  Sort of a ghost hound.”

“Goodness, that’s going from bad to worse,” laughed Betty, as they rejoined the other girls.  “Let’s hope it isn’t anything like that, Amy dear.  Hello, what are you waiting for?” she hailed the girls cheerfully.  “We almost fell over you.”

“Watch your step,” cautioned Mollie, adding as she cleared aside some bushes and motioned Betty to a place beside her:  “We’ve reached the river, Betty, and a little farther up is the falls.  Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Oh, it is beautiful,” rejoined Betty, a sentiment which Amy heartily echoed, and for a few minutes they stood there, drinking in the beauty of the scene, entirely unmindful of the lovely picture they themselves made with their loosened hair and wreaths of wild flowers.

The river was not very wide, but the water was deep and clear and swift and the continual swish-swish of its passage over rocks and between foliage-laden banks made a pleasant, even sound that was deliciously restful and refreshing.

“Oh, if we could only get down right into the very middle of it and let those little ripples wash over us forever and forever!” sighed Grace ecstatically.

“She would a little mermaid be!” sang Betty, as she slipped down to the very edge of the water and leaned over to catch her reflection in the bright depths of it.  “But honestly, Mollie, isn’t there any place in the river where we can swim?”

“It looks too swift for good swimming to me—­” began Grace, but Mollie stopped her with a mysterious finger to her lips.

“Hush, my pretty one, not a word,” said the latter, beginning to pick her way daintily along the river bank.  “Follow me and you will wear diamonds, or seaweed, or whatever it is that mermaids wear.  And don’t fall over, whatever you do,” she turned around to caution them, “The river is so swift here that I don’t believe even the strongest swimmer would have a chance.”

Accordingly the girls “watched their step,” and for some distance followed Mollie uncomplainingly.  Then, as there seemed no sign of their getting anywhere, Grace started to protest.