morative eyes." The girl gave back look for look, into the
big, hard, unwavering circles.

"You're a funny little bird," said she. "Say something!"

Like his congener of the hortatory poem, the owl held his peace.

"Perhaps you're a stuffed little bird," said Io, "and this not a real
desert at all, but a National Park or something, full of educational
specimens."

She walked past the occupant of the cactus, and his head, turning,
followed her with the slow, methodical movement of a toy mechanism.

"You give me a crick in my neck," protested the intruder plaintively.
"Now, I'll step over behind you and you'll _have_ to move or stop
watching me."

She walked behind the watcher. The eyes continued to hold her in direct
range.

"Now," said Io, "I know where the idea for that horrid advertisement
that always follows you with its finger came from. However, I'll fix
you."

She fetched a deliberate circle. The bird's eyes followed her without
cessation. Yet his feet and body remained motionless. Only the head had
turned. That had made a complete revolution.

"This is a very queer desert," gasped Io. "It's bewitched. Or am I? Now,
I'm going to walk once more around you, little owl, or mighty magician,
whichever you are. And after I've completely turned your head, you'll
fall at my feet. Or else..."

Again she walked around the feathered center of the circle. The head
followed her, turning with a steady and uninterrupted motion, on its
pivot. Io took a silver dime from her purse.

"Heaven save us from the powers of evil!" she said appreciatively.
"Aroint thee, witch!"

She threw the coin at the cactus.

"Chrr-rr-rrum!" burbled the owl, and flew away.

"I'm dizzy," said Io. "I wonder if the owl is an omen and whether the
other inhabitants of this desert are like him; however much you turn
their heads, they won't fall for you. Charms and counter-charms!... Be a
good child, Io," she admonished herself. "Haven't you got yourself into
enough trouble with your deviltries? I can't help it," she defended
herself. "When I see a new and interesting specimen, I've just _got_ to
investigate its nature and habits. It's an inherited scientific spirit,
I suppose. And he is new, and awfully interesting--even if he is only a
station-agent." Wherefrom it will be perceived that her thoughts had
veered from the cactus owl, to another perplexing local phenomenon.

The glaring line of the railroad right-of-way rose before her feet,