on the door with no response to the
questioning.

Phyllis stood close to the door. "Come here, Madge," she whispered.
"Now listen." The two girls were quiet as mice. One nodded to the
other. They had each heard a curious guttural sound outside their lodge
door.

"It's the deaf and dumb boy, Miss Jenny Ann. Shall we let him come in?"
asked Madge.

Miss Jones nodded, and Phil unlatched the door. In the same instant
Madge slipped her revolver into her hand, but she kept it hidden behind
her skirts.

The boy came slowly into the room, blinking at the light after the
darkness of the woods outside. He was wet to the skin and shaking with
cold. He gave a grunt of delight at the sight of the fire, then crossed
and stood before it, warming his outstretched hands. As though
frightened, the lad looked furtively from one young woman to the other.

Five minutes passed. The deaf and dumb lad made no explanation of his
surprising visit. It was impossible to ask him why he had come. The
houseboat party stared at him in perplexity. The boy stared back again.
He was completely fascinated by the beauty of the room and the circle
of pretty girls. He had apparently forgotten his errand.

Finally Madge grew tired of waiting for him to make a sign. Surely this
wild gypsy boy had not come to their lodge on such a night just to make
them a social call. How could she get any information out of him?

With a sudden inspiration she handed the lad a pencil and a piece of
paper. Perhaps the boy had some education. Madge printed in large
letters the simple words, "WHAT DO YOU WANT?" She handed the slip to
the youth.

He puzzled over it for a moment. Then his face lit up happily. He
pulled out of his pocket a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to
Madge.

Madge surveyed it gingerly, turning the paper first on one side, then
on the other. "The boy is an idiot," she announced positively. "Else
why should he have come over here on such a night with this dirty scrap
of paper? It hasn't a word written on it." Madge tossed the paper to
the ground contemptuously.

The lad made a rush for it. This time he passed it to Phil. He ran his
finger along some smudges on the paper.

"Wait, Phil," Miss Jenny Ann suggested, coming toward her with the
candle. Phil held up the paper and Miss Jenny Ann put the candle close
to it. Five pairs of eyes surveyed it at different ranges.

Written apparently with the finger, in coffee, was the solitary word,
"H