nd when he came up the path Cleo and Mary went to
meet him. They told him the shadow story, of course, even offered to
go down the walk and point out the tree, but he declined their
assistance.

"Now, I'll tell you girls," he said, shaking his head as he always did
when uttering an important fact, "we have a special watchman guarding
this place and maybe it was him" (he might have said he, but grammar is
not so important to a handy man as are good tools, and Michael always
had these).

"Oh, a watchman!" exclaimed Cleo. "I'm so glad. Now, Mary dear, don't
you go climbing any more trees," she warned with a pinch for Mary's
elbow.

"No, you had better all behave," added Michael, "for our man is a
regular hawk for night watching. I had to introduce him to Shep; knows
his step clear down the road. Not that he makes a sound we can hear,
but a dog, you know--a dog has ears in his paws, and they hear sounds
for a long distance in the ground," he declared.

"I guess so," said Mary, simply, "for I have seen dogs listen to things
so far off. But the watchman--would he shoot anyone who came around?"
There was anxiety in her voice.

"Well, no," conceded Michael; "he wouldn't exactly shoot first shot; he
might fire that over a prowler's head. Why?"

"Oh, nothing," fluttered Mary, "except that my old nurse is odd and
doesn't know American ways very well. And if she should come around
looking for me, a watchman would not understand her, I'm afraid."

"Tell me what she looks like and I'll post Jim. He's a careful enough
chap, but you know, young ladies, we have had some trouble about here
lately."

Mary described Reda as best she could, and being assured the man behind
the tree was really some passerby and not a prowler, the girls went
back to the house to find Grace and Madaline.

The two latter could hardly wait to come down the stairs by steps, so
impatient were they to reach Cleo and Mary.

"Oh, look!" exclaimed Grace. "Here's a letter for Mary. We picked it
up out by the gate. It must have been left there just as we came
along. But we couldn't see that it was a letter until we got into the
light. Here, Mary," and she handed over a square, common business
envelope. "It is only addressed to 'Maid Mary,'" finished Grace.

"Come on up to our room, to my room," suggested Cleo, surmising the
letter might be better read privately. "Aunt Audrey has guests on the
porch."

"All right," agreed Mary, crushing th