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"Must!" repeated Maurice, with great indignation.,"Don't know," replied Patricia gayly. "Don't care, either. Whatever it is, I'm going into it tooth and nail. I'll show them that I'm on the turf even if I can't win a ribbon.",A good-natured, whole-some looking young man in the clothes of a calendar, with a patch on his right eye, laid aside his long-necked lute and rose with a bow.,The idea lodged in Patricia's fertile brain was not so easily routed out.,"Or her," added the major. "For all I know that black witch may have something to do with the crime. Likely enough, if she knows how to manipulate the devil-stick.","Golly, that pretty nearly hits us all, doesn't it?" said Griffin apprehensively. "I'm not so sure about myself, now you mention it. Doris Leighton may be one ahead of me in this business. Fatty degeneration of the soul is a new one to me.",Patricia stamped her foot in vexation. "What do you mean?" she cried. "You're the most exasperating——","Git your night-gown and your tooth-bresh quick, Molly, if you want to pack 'em in my trunk!" he exclaimed with his eyes dancing and a curl standing straight up on the top of his head, as it has a habit of doing when he is most excited. "You can't take nothing but them 'cause I'm going to put in a rope to tie the whale with when I ketch him, and it'll take up all the rest of the room. Git 'em quick!",Judith was silent for the most part, but her eyes glowed like live coals and she kept tossing her pale, straight mane in the way she had when pleasantly excited.,"What do you say? I thought you loved the girl?",Judith flushed and tossed her mane with a gratified air. "Oh, they don't think much of me," she rejoined. "They make fun of me lots of times.",Patricia held Judith close, with her own heart beating tumultuously to the rhythm of the storm. Hard rattling drops castinetted at the glass, beating an accompaniment to the roar of the racing clouds. For a moment all was black, then, as the whirling cloud masses swept apart, the pelting drops lulled and a gray twilight full of ominous murmurs filled the place. Before Patricia could frame the swift thought that the storm was passing, darkness swept over them again, and the fierce scream of the relentless wind tore at the corners of the barn. The rain beat, deluged, engulfed the out-of-doors; it drummed gayly with diminishing ferocity; then it roared sullenly, flooding the rain spouts to bursting; it raged again, with the scream of the wind growing higher, and snapping branches flung themselves past the gray squares of the windows, flying leaves pasted wet green blurs on the streaming glass. Judith shuddered..