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"The Voodoo stone," echoed Jen, much puzzled. "And what may that be?" "Won't it seem queer to you to be anywhere but at Greycroft, though?" mused Patricia, her eyes wide and absent. "Although we've only had the place not quite a year, I feel as though we'd always been there, and I can't imagine how it would seem to have to live anywhere else now." I had about decided to burn this book, because I shan't need it any longer, for he says he and Billy and I are going to play so much golf and tennis that I shall keep as thin as he wants me to without any more melting, or freezing, or starving, but perhaps he would like to read the little red book..

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"Undoubtedly," asserted Jen, readily. "But he must also have been asleep, else he would have called out as the men burst through the window." Griffin, who was just behind her, winked solemnly at Patricia and then shook her head sadly, as if to indicate that the monitor was in her opinion hopelessly incorrigible. "I think Miss Jinny has hurt her hand, Miss Pat," she said with exaggerated anxiety. "She's got her handkerchief wrapped about it. I hope it isn't badly hurt—she doesn't look as if it were inimical, does she?" They followed the general exodus upstairs, feeling more and more at home with every step..