t I must lock the house
first. Mother has a key."

"I'll help," volunteered David, following Polly into the front hall.

With windows and doors secure behind them, the two started for Oregon
Avenue, Polly talking all the way.

"It was along here that you saw them, wasn't it?" she questioned
softly, as if fearful that her voice might carry to the piazza parties
that lined the pleasant street.

"Just about," David answered; "but it's lighter further on. There's a
carriage block in front of that big gray house where you can sit down
and rest."

"I'm not a bit tired," Polly insisted, yet to please David she sat
dutifully on the stone indicated for at least three minutes; then she
suddenly decided that it was too conspicuous, and they moved on up the
avenue.

The night was warm and still. Occasionally a puff of cooler air would
meet the children at some dusky driveway or odorous garden, and they
would halt to enjoy it. From dark verandas and brilliant houses
laughter and song floated out to them as they passed along. Altogether
this stalking Colonel Gresham was rather a delightful affair, and
sometimes in the pleasure of the moment their errand would be almost
forgotten.

Not many carriages were abroad, and this was not one of the highways
frequented by motor-cars. Every vehicle, therefore, claimed the
children's attention. Far up the avenue, on a corner where an arc
light cast fitful shadows over the intersecting roadways, they stopped
to catch a breeze straying up from the harbor. Polly was blithely
chattering.

"'Sh!" whispered David.

The sound of hoofs came faintly through the stillness.

"I believe it is!" Polly whispered back.

David nodded eagerly.

"Dear me, how that light bobs up and down!" Polly complained. "I hope
it will be bright when they get here."

"Let's stand in the shadow!" David pulled her under a broad maple
tree.

On came the hoofs, nearer, nearer. The light suddenly flared.

"Oh, goody!" exulted Polly.

"It is Lone Star!" whispered David.

The familiar horse appeared in the flickering circle of light. Behind
him the form of a man and a woman were barely discernible--then utter
darkness! Lone Star trotted by the discomfited two, and was gone. The
light did not come back. The children clutched each other in silent
disappointment. Polly was the first to find words.

"Wasn't that just mean?"

David laughed--a grim little laugh.

"Don't! It hurts. I'm too mad to laugh."

He c