atching a girl cut monkey-shines!"
moaned Deering. "You haven't forgotten what we're looking for, have you!"
he demanded, shaking his fist in Hood's face.

"Once more, be calm! Don't you see that you're on the verge of a new
'Midsummer Night's Dream'; that the world's tired of work and gone back
to play! Don't talk like a tired business man whose wife has dragged him
to see one of Ibsen's frolics--'Rosmersholm,' for example--where they
talk for three hours and then jump in the well! The fact that there's one
girl left in the world to dance under stars ought to hearten you for
anything. We don't find in this world the things we're looking for,
Deering; we've got to be ready for surprises. I won't say that that's the
girl who ran off with your bonds; all I can say is that she's as likely
to be the one as any girl I can think of. Tut! Don't imagine I don't
sympathize with you in your troubles; but forget them, that's the ticket.
This will do for to-night. We'd better go back to the Barton and to bed."

He yawned sleepily and started toward the road. Deering caught him by the
arm.

"I was just thinking--" he began.

"Thinking is a bad habit, my boy. Thought is the curse of the world. The
less thinking we do the better off we are. Down at Pass Christian last
winter I sat under a tree for a solid month and never thought a think.
Most profitable time I ever spent in my life. Camped with a sneak-thief
who was making a tour of the Southern resorts--nice chap; must tell you
about him sometime."

He chuckled as though the recollection of his larcenous companion pleased
him tremendously.

"I don't believe I'll go back to the Barton just yet," Deering suggested
timidly. "It's possible, you know, that that girl _might_----"

"You've got it!" exclaimed Hood eagerly, clapping his hands upon
Deering's shoulders. "The spell is taking hold! Wait here a thousand
years if you like for that kid to come back, and don't bother about me.
But cut out your vulgar bond twaddle, and don't ask her if she stole your
suitcase! As like as not she'll lead you to the end of the rainbow, and
show you a meal sack bulging with red, red gold. Here's her cap--better
keep it for good luck."

Deering stood, with the clown's cap in his hand, staring after Hood's
retreating figure. It was not wholly an illusion that he had experienced
a change of some sort, and he wondered whether there might not be
something in Hood's patter about the May madness. At an