And this was the way in which Peter rode into Barton Beach. The girl's name was Jenny, she soon discovered, and she was rather solemn and rather fun, but very inquisitive.

"I'll have to take old George to the stable when we get home," she said, "and then I'll show you the way to Seven Gates. It will be dark early tonight, and it's not easy to find... Fancy old Mr. Sterling being your uncle! Gosh! that's funny."

Peter asked why.

"Nobody here knew he was an uncle, and even if he is yours, I'd better tell you that I wouldn't be in your shoes for anything."

"Why not? What's the matter with him?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to stay in that great ugly house, anyway, and I don't like it up there on the mountain."

"Yes, but what's the matter with Uncle?"

Jenny tried to laugh it off.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything is the matter with him... We don't see him walking about the village now. Some say he goes out a lot at night by himself, walking over the hills... But I don't know really... What have you come here for?"

Peter explained that she had come for part of her holidays, but it did sound rather silly on a cold, damp, dark evening like this. It didn't seem as if anyone could possibly come for a holiday to such a place.

"Oh, well," Jenny said, "I have to help a bit in the shop and run errands like this, too, but perhaps we could have some fun together here. Now we're really home, and I'll just tell Mum I'm back and then we'll go up to Seven Gates."

They had come now to a long, straggling village street, and old George broke into a shambling trot as he scented his stable. Jenny pulled him up and lowered the bicycle to Peter, who leaned it against an old-fashioned, dirty-looking shop, which had a letter-box at the side of one window. Above the door she could just read "General HARMAN Stores."

"Better wait inside," Jenny called as she followed the horse round into the yard.

As Peter opened the door she was startled by a horrible clanging above her head. She looked up in alarm at the rusty swinging bell, and then a sharp voice called from somewhere in the gloom at the back:

"Who's there?" called the voice. "Go away. I can't serve you. We're closed."

Peter was still wondering what to answer when Jenny's voice came also from the hidden back regions. "It's all right, Mum. It's a friend of mine called Peter. She's the girl coming to Seven Gates."

"Good gracious! Why didn't you say so? Come in here, child, and let's have a look at you."