me her
slickers," she declared. "No, you mustn't come with me, Ted. I'll be
perfectly safe with Rags, and while I'm gone, you can all be giving that
Beethoven sonata that you promised Aunt Marcia. I won't be fifteen
minutes."

They finally let her go and settled down to the music once more. She was
much more than fifteen minutes in returning, but no one noticed it, so
deeply immersed were they in the rendering of the sonata. At last,
however, she was back, breathless and dripping and with a curious light
in her eye that no one noticed but Phyllis.

"What is it?" Phyllis managed to whisper, when the others were talking
and putting on wraps.

"Just this," replied Leslie, breathlessly and jerkily. "While I was in
the house--I happened--to look out of my window--as I often do,--no light
in my room--and I saw--that light again next door! Rags saw it too--at
least he growled in that queer way. I waited and watched a long time--I
wanted to go out nearer the place--but didn't dare. Then it disappeared
and I didn't see it--any more. Then I came on here."

Phyllis listened to the whispered, jerky sentences in a thrilled silence.
Then she replied: "I'm coming up first thing to-morrow morning--early!
But watch out the rest of the night--if you can!"

Phyllis was as good as her word--better, in fact, for she was actually
knocking at the door of Rest Haven before Leslie was out of bed, much to
Miss Marcia's astonishment.

"Did you see anything else?" was her first whispered greeting.

But Leslie shook her head. "There wasn't another thing happened. I
watched nearly all night--till I fell asleep at the window, in fact!"

"Well, something happened at _some_ time or other!" replied Phyllis,
provocatively.

"How do you know?" demanded Leslie, in a twitter.

"I've seen the sign of it. Come outside and I'll show you!"

They made some excuse to Miss Marcia for immediately vacating the house,
and hurried outdoors. Phyllis led the way to a certain side door of
Curlew's Nest, on the opposite side from Rest Haven, where a sheltering
projection of roof extended out for two or three feet over the ground.
The hard rain of the night before had beaten out the sand all about the
wooden foot-path to an unbroken smoothness. But just under the protecting
roof, Phyllis pointed to something at their feet.

"There it is!" she muttered. And Leslie, staring down, beheld the
impression of a single footprint--a footprint very different from eith