ow fell across the moss; then another; two slim shapes moved
stealthily among the trees across the brook.

For ten minutes the foremost figure stood looking at Langdon.
Occasionally she used an opera glass, which, from time to time, she
passed back over her shoulder to her companion.

"Ethra," she whispered at last, "he seems to be practically perfect."

"I'm wondering about those puttees, dear--shanks in puttees are
deceptive."

"Those are exquisite calves," said Amourette sadly. "I'm sure they'll
measure up to regulation. And his chest seems up to proof."

"What beautiful eyebrows," murmured Ethra.

But Amourette found no pleasure in them, nor in the golden-brown hair,
nor the bloom of youth and perfect health pervading their unconscious
quarry. Perhaps she was thinking of a certain near-sighted, thin-haired
young man--and how she had slammed the gate of the wire fence in his
face--_after_ their first kiss.

She drew a deep, painful breath and lifted her head resolutely.

"I suppose I'd better begin to stalk him, Ethra," she said.

"Yes; he's a very good specimen. Be careful, dear. Strike a circle and
come up behind him. When you're ready, mew like a cat-bird and I'll let
him catch a glimpse of me. And as soon as he begins to--to rubber," she
said, with a haughty glance at the unconscious angler, "steal up and net
him, and I'll come across and help tie him up."

Amourette sighed, standing there irresolute. Then she straightened her
drooping shoulders, seized her net very firmly, and, with infinite
caution, began to stalk her quarry.

Once the stalking had fairly begun, the girl became absorbed in the game.
All memory of Sayre, if there indeed had been any to make her falter in
her purpose, now departed. She was a huntress pure and simple, silent,
furtive, adroit, intent upon her quarry. There came a kind of fierceness
into her concentration; the joy of the chase thrilled her as she crept
noiselessly through the woods, describing a circle, crossing the stream
far above the sleepy fisherman, gliding, stealing nearer, nearer, until
at length she stood in the thicket behind him.

For a moment she waited silently, freeing her net and gathering it in her
right hand ready for a deadly cast. Then, pursing up her red lips, she
mewed like a cat-bird, three times.

Instantly, across the stream, she saw Ethra step out of the willows into
plain view; saw Langdon wake up, stare, get up, and regard the beautiful
visio