was very hard on him! And I've been
afraid--sometimes--that I should never see him again."

Deering thought he saw a glint of tears in her eyes. She rose hastily and
asked with a wavering smile:

"If there's nothing further----"

"Not food--if you mean that," said Hood.

"But about Pierrette!" Deering exclaimed despairingly. "If she's likely
to come, we must wait for her."

"I rather advise you against it," the girl answered. "I have no idea when
she will come back."

They rose instinctively as she passed out. The door fanned a moment and
was still.

"Well?" demanded Deering ironically.

"Please don't speak to me in that tone," responded Hood. "This was your
breakfast, not mine; you needn't scold me if it didn't go to suit you!
Ah, what have we here!"

He had drawn back a curtain at one end of the dining-room, disclosing a
studio beyond. It was evidently a practical workshop and bore traces of
recent use. Deering passed him and strode toward an easel that supported
a canvas on which the paint was still wet. He cried out in astonishment:

"That's the moon girl--that's the girl I talked to last night--clown
clothes and all! She's sitting on the wall there just as I found her."

"A sophisticated brush; no amateur's job," Hood muttered, squinting at
the canvas. "Seems to me I've seen that sort of thing somewhere
lately--Pantaloon, Harlequin, Columbine, and Clown--latest fad in
magazine covers. We're in the studio of a popular illustrator--there's a
bunch of proofs on the table, and those things on the floor are from the
same hand. Signature in the corner a trifle obscure--Mary B. Taylor."

"She may be Babette," Deering suggested. "Suppose I call her and ask?"

Hood, having become absorbed in a portfolio of pen-and-ink sketches of
clowns, harlequins, and columbines, subjects in which the owner of the
studio apparently specialized, paid no heed to the suggestion. When
Deering returned he was gazing critically at a sketch showing a dozen
clowns executing a spirited dance on a garden-wall.

"She's skipped! There isn't a soul on the place," Deering announced
dejectedly.

"Not at all surprising; probably gone to join her model, Pierrette. And
we'd better clear out before we learn too much; life ceases to be
interesting when you begin to find the answers to riddles. Pierrette is
probably a friend of the artist, and plays model for the fun of it. The
same girl is repeated over and over again in these drawings--fr