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The solid rock of the mountain had been cut away from the rear of the house to form a natural, paved court. At the top was a small chicken coop, its wall flush with the wall of rock; and near it grew an oak sapling not larger than Billy’s arm. “Good-by Dad and Mar and Mosey,” called Betty as she sped down the path toward the school-house. He went on, a little cautiously now, and shortly came in view of the “Ha’nt,” a sinister though imposing house, built of cut stone, close against the face of the most picturesque mountain of the range, bounding Vina Valley. The windows were curtained with cobwebs and dust. For years the wide front door had been nailed up with the same sun-bleached boards; and “Keep out!” spoke from every gray splinter..

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As Mrs. Wopp adjusted her bonnet before leaving the house, she gave minute instructions to Mr. Wopp. “Oh, no; she must be Jean.” “Wot fer? You girls is alius thinkin’ o’ money.” Moses clinked the nickels in his pocket with the air of a Vanderfeller. Betty’s voice became wheedling. “A whale is a fish bigger nor a house,” answered Pete, with ready assurance..