ute.
The idea was not a pleasant one to contemplate.

"Gee whiz! I'd fade _away_--I'd shrink up to a pale shadow and
perish--actually perish, if ever that fellow got hold of _me_!" said young
Mr. Jones. His voice indicated that perhaps his exaggerated statement
might not be so overdrawn as it appeared.

"Come on! Give me a lift, somebody," exclaimed Way impatiently. Then,
ignoring Billy's prompt offer of a hand to boost him, up he clambered
and the next moment stood within. Billy, Paul and Dave followed.

The air in the house was close and oppressive. Outside the sun shone
hot. Not even a zephyr stirred the leaves. A bluejay shrieked noisily, as
if in protest at the visitors' conduct. With something of that "fading
away" feeling Paul Jones had mentioned, the boys proceeded, however, from
room to room.

Downstairs they found everything to be quite as has been described
heretofore. The bucket on the kitchen table beside which, on a former
occasion, the boys had seen a tiny pool of water, was now empty and
turned upside down. Other little things, such as the tin dipper being
inside a cupboard and every drawer and every door closed, suggested
that whoever had occupied the house had indeed gone away.

A door opened upon the stairs that led to the second floor. It was closed
but not locked. Up the dusty steps the boys went. They found themselves
in a hall off of which opened six small bed-rooms. In each was a bedstead
of one kind or another, some of iron, some built of pine lumber. There
were mattresses on all the beds but on only one was there other bedding.
This was in the room the window of which the boys had more than once seen
to be open.

A couple of blankets and a pillow were thrown loosely over this mattress.
The latter was quite out of its proper position as if it had been placed
on the bedstead hurriedly. Looking more closely the lads discovered that
the other mattresses were awry. Dave suggested that someone had pulled
them this way and that to see if anything was hidden in or under them.
There was no telling whether he was right.

Between two of the tiny bed-rooms was a bath-room. It contained a tub
and washstand only, but was quite nicely finished in painted pine as,
indeed, was all the second floor. There were no towels, soap, brushes or
any of the usual paraphernalia of a bath-room in sight but on a little
shelf beneath the mirror were a shaving-mug and brush.

"See! this has been used just lately! The