way and
that in a winding path--as if from the passage of some crawling thing!

"She tried to get me out of the way!"

"Oh, tell me where is my fath-er!"

"Why, of _course_. They say he's--"

He did not finish; or if he did she heard no end to the sentence. Of a
sudden her face had grown almost painfully hot--as a great yellow light
flamed against it, a light that shimmered up dazzlingly from the surface
of a broad treeless field. This field was like none that she had ever
imagined. For its acres were neatly sodded with _mirrors_.

The little company was on the beveled edge of the field. To halt them,
and conspicuously displayed, was a sign. It read--

_Keep off The Glass._

"'Keep off the glass,'" read Gwendolyn. "And I don't wonder. 'Cause we'd
crack it."

"We don't crack it, we cross it," reminded the Man-Who-Makes-Faces. And
stepped boldly upon the gleaming plate.

"My! My!" exclaimed the Piper. "Ain't there a _fine_ crop this year!"

A fine crop? Gwendolyn glanced down. And saw for the first time that
the mirrored acres were studded, flower-like, with countless silk-shaded
candles!

What curious candles they were! They did not grow horizontally, as she
had imagined they must, but upright and candle-like. Above their sticks,
which were of brass, silver and decorated porcelain, was a flame, ruddy
of tip, sharply pointed, but fat and yellow at the base, where the soft
white wax fed the fire; at the other end of the sticks, as like the top
light as if it were a perfect reflection, was a second flame. These were
candles that burned _at both ends_.

And this was the region she had traveled so far to find! Her heart beat
so wildly that it stirred the plaid of the little gingham dress.

"Say! I hear a quacking!" announced Puffy, staring up into the sky.

Gwendolyn heard it, too. It seemed to come from across the Field of
Double-Ended Candles. She peered that way, to where a heavy fringe of
trees walled the farther side greenily.

She saw him first!--while the others (excepting the Bird) were still
staring skyward. At the start, what she discerned was only a faint
outline on the tree-wall--the outline of a man, broad-shouldered, tall,
but a trifle stooped. It was faint for the reason that it blended with
the trees. For the man was garbed in green.

As he advanced into the field, the chorus of quacks grew louder. And
presently Gwendolyn caught certain familiar expressions--"Oh, don't
bozzer me!" "Sit