Good-by." That afternoon, once more in the depot-wagon, which had been refitted with its fourth wheel, Thankful, on her way to the Wellmouth railway station, passed her "property." The old house, its weather-beaten shingles a cold gray in the half-light of the mist-shrouded, sinking sun, looked lonely and deserted.

A chill wind came from the sea and the surf at the foot of the bluff moaned and splashed and sighed.
Thankful sighed also.
"What's the matter ?" asked Winnie S.
"Oh, nothin' much.

I wish I was a prophet, that's all.

I'd like to be able to look ahead a year." Winnie S.whistled.

"Judas priest!" he said.