" cried the Policeman. "_Now_ who?"

"If only the right kind come!" added the little old gentleman, each of
his round eyes rimmed with sudden white.

"I'll blow my whistle." Up swung the shining bit of metal on the end of
its chain.

"Blow it at the top of your lungs!"

The Policeman had balanced himself on his head, thrown away his gum, and
put the whistle against his lips. Now he raised it and placed it against
his chest, just above his collar-button. Then he blew. And through the
forest the blast rang and echoed and boomed--until all the tapers rose
and fell, and all the footlights flickered.

Instantly that red moon sank below the crest of the hill. Puffs of smoke
rose in its place. Then there was borne to the waiting trio a sound of
_chugging_. And the next instant, with a purr of its engine, and a whirr
of its wheels, here into full sight shot forward the limousine!

Gwendolyn paled. The half-devoured stick of candy slipped from her
fingers. "Oh, I don't want to be shut up in the car!" she cried out.
"And I won't! I _won't!_ I WON'T!" She scurried behind the
Man-Who-Makes-Faces.

The automobile came on. Its polished sides reflected the varied lights
of the forest. Its hated windows glistened. One door swung wide, as if
yawning for a victim!

The little old gentleman, as he watched it, seemed interested rather
than apprehensive. After a moment, "Recollect my speaking of the Piper?"
he asked.

"Y-y-yes."

At the mention of the Piper, the Policeman stared up. "The Pip-Piper!"
he protested, stammering, and beginning to back away.

At that, Gwendolyn felt renewed anxiety. "The Piper!" she faltered. "Oh,
I'll have to settle with him." And thrust a searching hand into the
patch-pocket.

The Policeman kept on retreating. "I don't want to see him," he
declared. "He made me pay too dear for my whistle." And he bumped his
head against his night-stick.

The Man-Who-Makes-Faces hastened to him, and halted him by grasping him
about his fast-swaying legs. "You can't run away from the Piper," he
reminded. "So--"

Gwendolyn was no longer frightened. In her search for money she had
found the gold-mounted leather case. This she now clutched, receiving
courage from the stiff upper-lip.

But the Policeman was far from sanguine. Now perspiration and not tears
glistened on his forehead. He grasped his club with one shaking hand.

As for the little old gentleman, he held the curved knife out in front
of him, all his