creep, creep, creeping of a rustling step in the hall. It
continued so long that Ruth wondered if one of the girls in the other
room was ill, and she softly arose and went to the door, which was ajar.
And what she saw there in the hall startled her.

CHAPTER XII

BUSY IZZY IN A NEW ASPECT

The stair-well was a wide and long opening and around it ran a broad
balustrade. There was no stairway to the third floor of this big
bungalow, only the servants' staircase in the rear reaching those rooms
directly under the roof. So the hall on this second floor, out of which
the family bedrooms opened, was an L-shaped room, with the balustrade
on one hand.

And upon that balustrade Ruth Fielding beheld a tottering figure in
white, plainly visible in the soft glow of the single light burning
below, yet rather ghostly after all.

She might have been startled in good earnest had she not first of all
recognized Isadore Phelps' face. He was balancing himself upon the
balustrade and, as she came to the door, he walked gingerly along the
narrow strip of moulding toward Ruth.

"Izzy! whatever are you doing?" she hissed.

The boy never said a word to her, but kept right on, balancing himself
with difficulty. He was in his pajamas, his feet bare, and--she saw it
at last--his eyes tight shut.

"Oh! he's asleep," murmured Ruth.

And that surely was Busy Izzy's state at that moment. Sound asleep and
"tight-rope walking" on the balustrade.

Ruth knew that it would be dangerous to awaken him suddenly--especially
as it might cause him to fall down the stair-well. She crept back into
her room and called Helen. The two girls in their wrappers and slippers
went into the hall again. There was Busy Izzy tottering along in the
other direction, having turned at the wall. Once they thought he would
plunge down the stairway, and Helen grabbed at Ruth with a squeal of
terror.

"Sh!" whispered her chum. "Go tell Tom. Wake him up. The boys ought
to tie Izzy in bed if he is in the habit of doing this."

"My! isn't he a sight!" giggled Helen, as she ran past the gyrating
youngster, who had again turned for a third perambulation of the railing.

She whispered Tom's name at his open door and in a minute the girls
heard him bound out of bed. He was with them--sleepy-eyed and hastily
wrapping his robe about him--in a moment.

"For the land's sake!" he gasped, when he saw his friend on the
balustrade. "What are you----"

"Sh!" commanded R