the water pouring from him in streams, his red head sleek and shining.
"I got a little short of breath that last time," he admitted. "I kept touching the things and they kept rolling away, I thought I would never get them in my hands. They would have rusted to bits in a little longer; we have not found them at all too soon."
Michael's wits seemed to be wandering a little when they returned to him, nor did he appear to understand very clearly the account that, both speaking excitedly, they poured into his ears.
"Of course, of course," he kept repeating a little impatiently, "did I not tell you that the secret of the ill luck charm lay in the pool of stars?"
"You did, Michael," Betsey agreed soothingly at last, "but you see we did not quite understand."
"And now," said David, getting up, "I am going back to the cottage to telephone for the doctor and to bring help to carry Michael home. It will not be long."
Betsey sat very quiet after he had gone. The wind whooped and whirled overhead, bowing the trees and beating back and forth the branches of the vines and shrubs. All at once she began to hear a strange cracking, a grating of stones and the snapping of ivy stems, the crushing of bushes, then an
