is! You're like a lot of damn mutes. Who's dead, anyhow? The Irish do it better. Whoop things up! For God's sake, Jack, dig up a bottle, and let's have one good hour!"
The other three turned to him, oddly grateful for the interruption. Big Jack made no move to get the suggested bottle, nor had Joe expected him to. The liquor was stored with the rest of the outfit in the stable. None desired to have the door opened at that moment.
Young Joe's shaking voice rattled on: "I could drink a quart myself without taking breath. Lord, this is enough to give a man a thirst! What would you give for an old-fashioned skate, boys? I'd welcome a few pink elephants, myself, after seeing nothing for days. What's the matter with you all? Are you hypnotized? For the love of Mike, start something!"
The pressure of dread was too great. The hurrying voice petered out, and the shack was silent again. Husky made a bluff of continuing his game. Jack and Shand stared into the fire. Joe lay listening, every muscle tense.
It came again, a sibilant sound, as if out of a throat through clenched teeth. It had a mocking ring. It was impossible to say whence it came. It filled the room.
Young Joe's nerves snapped. He leaped up with a shriek, and, springing across the room, fell beside Shand and clung to him.
"Did you hear it?" he cried. "It's out there! It's been following me! It's not human! Don't let it in!"
They were too much shaken themselves to laugh at his panic terror. Both men by the fire jumped up and turned around. Husky knocked over his box, and the cards scattered broadcast. He sidled towards the others, keeping his eyes on the door.
"Stop your yelling!" Shand hoarsely commanded.
"Did you hear it? Did you hear it?" Joe continued to cry.
"Yes, I heard it," growled Shand.
"Me, too," added the others.
Joe's rigid figure relaxed. "Thank God!" he moaned. "I thought it was inside my head."
"Listen!" commanded Jack.
They stood close together, all their late animosities forgotten in a common fear. There was nothing to be heard but the wind in the tree-tops.
"Maybe it was a beast or a bird—some kind of an owl," suggested Husky shakily.
"No; like a voice laughing," stammered Joe.
"Right at the door like—trying to get in," added Shand.
"Open the door!" said big Jack.
No one made a move, nor did he offer to himself.
As they listened they heard another sound, like a stick rattling against the logs outside.
"Oh, my God!" muttered Joe.
The others made no sound, but the colour slowly left their faces. They were strong men and stout-hearted in the presence of any visible danger. It was the supernatural element that turned their breasts to water.
Big Jack finally crept toward the door.
"Don't open it!" shrieked Joe.
"Shut up!" growled Jack.
They perceived that it was not his intention to open it. He dropped the bar in place. They breathed easier.
"Put out the light!" said Husky.
"Don't you do it!" cried Shand. "It's nothing that can shoot in!"
Their flesh crawled at the unholy suggestion his words conveyed.
They stood elbow to elbow, backs to the fire, waiting for more. For a long time all was quiet except the trees outside. They began to feel easier. Suddenly something dropped down the chimney behind them and smashed on the hearth, scattering the embers.
The four men leaped forward as one, with a common grunt of terror. Facing around, they saw that it was only a round stone such as the chimney was built of. But that it might have fallen naturally did not lessen the fresh shock to their demoralized nerves. Their teeth chattered. They stuck close together, with terrified and sheepish glances at each other.
"By God!" muttered Big Jack. "Ice or no ice, to-morrow we move on from here!"
"I never believed in—in nothing of the kind," growled Shand. "But this beats all!"
"We never should have stopped here," said Husky. "It looked bad—a deserted shack, with the roof in and all. Maybe the last man who lived here was mur—done away with!"
Young Joe was beyond speech. White-faced and trembling violently, the big fellow clung to Shand like a child.
"Oh, hell!" said Big Jack. "Nothing can happen to us if we stick together and keep the fire up!" His tone was less confident than the words.
"All the wood's outside," stammered Husky.
"Burn the furniture," suggested Big Jack.
Suiting the action to the words, he put his barrel-stave rocker on the embers. It blazed up generously, filling every corner of the shack with light, and giving them more confidence. There were no further untoward sounds.
Meanwhile the fifth man had been sleeping quietly in the corner. The one who goes to bed early in camp must needs learn to sleep through anything. The other men disregarded him.
The table and the boxes followed the chair on the fire. The four discussed what had happened in low tones.
"I noticed it first yesterday," said Big Jack.
"Me, too," added Husky. "What did you see?"
"Didn't see nothing." Jack glanced about him uneasily. "Don't know as it does any good to talk about it," he muttered.
"We got to know what to do," said Shand.
"Well, it was in the daytime, at that," Jack resumed. "I set a trap for skunks beside the trail over across the creek, and I went to see if I got anything. I was walkin' along not two hundred yards beyond the stable when something soft hit me on the back of the head. I was mad. I spun around to see who had done it. There wasn't nobody. I searched that piece of woods good. I'm sure there wasn't anybody there. At last I thought it was a trick of the senses like. Thought I was bilious maybe. Until I got the trap."
"What was it hit you?" asked Husky.
"I don't know. A lump of sod it felt like. I was too busy looking for who threw it to see."
"What about the trap?" asked Shand.
"I'm comin' to that. It was sprung, and there was a goose's quill stickin' in it. Now, I leave it to you if a wild goose ain't too smart to go in a trap. And if he did, he couldn't get a feather caught by the butt end, could he?"
They murmured in astonishment.
"Me," began Husky; "yesterday I was cuttin' wood for the fire a little way back in the bush, and I got het up and took off my sweater, the red one, and laid it on a log. I loaded up with an armful of wood and carried it to the pile outside the door here. I wasn't away two minutes, but when I went back to my axe the sweater was gone.
"I thought one of you fellows took it. Remember, I asked you? I looked for it near an hour. Then I came in to my dinner. We was all here together, and I was the first to get up from the table. Well, sir, when I went back to my axe, there was the sweater where I first left it. Can you beat it? It was so damn queer I didn't like to say nothing."
"What about you?" Jack asked of Shand.
Shand nodded. "To-day when I walked up the shore there was something funny. I had a notion I was followed all the way. Couldn't shake it. Half a dozen times I turned short and ran into the bush to look. Couldn't see nothing. Just the same I was sure. No noise, you understand, just pad, pad on the ground that stopped when I stopped."
"What do you know?" Jack asked in turn of Joe.
"W—wait till I tell you," stammered Joe. "It's been with me two days. I couldn't