ll tired and not even Helen objected when bed was proposed
that night. In fact, Heavy went to sleep in her chair, and they had a
dreadful time waking her up and keeping her awake long enough for her to
undress, say her prayers, and get into bed.

In the other girls' room Ruth and her companions spent little time in
talking or frolicking. Nita had begged to sleep with Mercy, with whom
she had spent considerable time that day and evening; and the lame girl
and the runaway were apparently both asleep before Ruth and Helen got
settled for the night.

Then Helen dropped asleep between yawns and Ruth found herself lying
wide-awake, staring at the faintly illuminated ceiling. Of a sudden,
sleep had fled from her eyelids. The happenings of the day, the mystery
of Nita, the meanness of Mary Cox, her own trouble at the mill, the
impossibility of her going to Briarwood next term unless she found some
way of raising money for her tuition and board, and many, many other
thoughts, trooped through Ruth Fielding's mind for more than an hour.

Mostly the troublesome thoughts were of her poverty and the seeming
impossibility of her ever discovering any way to earn such a quantity
of money as three hundred and fifty dollars. Her chum, lying asleep
beside her, did not dream of this problem that continually troubled
Ruth's mind.

The clock down stairs tolled eleven solemn strokes. Ruth did not move.
She might have been sound asleep, save for her open eyes, their gaze
fixed upon the ceiling. Suddenly a beam of light flashed in at one
window, swinging from right to left, like the blade of a phantom scythe,
and back again.

Ruth did not move, but the beam of light took her attention immediately
from her former thoughts. Again and once again the flash of light was
repeated. Then she suddenly realized what it was. Somebody was walking
down the path toward the private dock, swinging a lantern.

She would have given it no further thought had not a door latch clicked.
Whether it was the latch of her room, or another of the bedrooms on this
floor of the bungalow, Ruth could not tell. But in a moment she heard
the balustrade of the stair creak.

"It's Izzy again!" thought Ruth, sitting up in bed. "He's walking in
his sleep. The boys did not tie him."

She crept out of bed softly so as not to awaken Helen or the other girls
and went to the door. When she opened it and peered out, there was no
ghostly figure "tight-roping it" on the balustrade