The evening gloom deepened as she played with upward face and reminiscent eyes.

The tune was uncertain, weird--for she was trying to recall one of those nameless airs which Dan whistled as he rode through the hills.

There came a patter of swift, light footfalls in the hall, and then a heavy scratching at the door.
"Down, Bart!" she called, and went to admit him to the room.
The moment she turned the handle the door burst open and Bart fell in against her.

She cried out at sight of the gleaming teeth and eyes, but he fawned about her feet, alternately whining and snarling.
"What is it, boy ?" she asked, gathering her skirts close about her ankles and stepping back, for she never was without some fear of this black monster.

"What do you want, Bart ?" For reply he stood stock still, raised his nose, and emitted a long wail, a mournful, a ghastly sound, with a broken-hearted quaver at the end.