, the seldom
understood, experienced an unusual pleasure. The sensation
produced an unusual result.

"It's a kind of cute and old-fashioned house inside," he observed.
"Maybe you'd like to go in and look around; would you?"

She looked very much pleased. "Oh, I should, indeed!" she
exclaimed. "May I?"

Now, the moment after he issued the invitation he was sorry. It
had been quite unpremeditated and had been given he could not have
told why. His visitor had seemed so genuinely interested, and,
above all, had treated him like a rational human being instead of a
freak. Under this unaccustomed treatment Jed Winslow had been
caught off his guard--hypnotized, so to speak. And now, when it
was too late, he realized the possible danger. Only a few hours
ago he had told Mr. and Mrs. George Powless that the key to that
house had been lost.

He paused and hesitated. Mrs. Armstrong noticed his hesitation.

"Please don't think any more about it," she said. "It is
delightful here in the yard. Babbie and I will stay here a few
minutes, if we may, and you must go back to your work, Mr.
Winslow."

But Jed, having put his foot in it, was ashamed to withdraw. He
hastened to disclaim any intention of withdrawal.

"No, no," he protested. "I don't need to go to work, not yet
anyhow. I should be real pleased to show you the house, ma'am.
You wait now and I'll fetch the key."

Some five minutes later he reappeared with triumph in his eye and
the "lost" key in his hand.

"Sorry to keep you waitin', ma'am," he explained. "The key had--
er--stole its nest, as you might say. Got it now, though."

His visitors looked at the key, which was attached by a cord to a
slab of wood about the size of half a shingle. Upon one side of
the slab were lettered in black paint the words HERE IT IS.
Barbara's curiosity was aroused.

"What have you got those letters on there for, Mr. Winslow?" she
asked. "What does it say?"

Jed solemnly read the inscription. "I printed that on there," he
explained, "so I'd be able to find the key when I wanted it."

Mrs. Armstrong smiled. "I should think it might help," she
observed, evidently much amused.

Mr. Winslow nodded. "You would think so," he said, "wouldn't you?
Maybe 'twould, too, only 'twas such a plaguey nuisance, towin' that
half a cord of wood around, that I left it to home last time.
Untied the string, you know, and just took the key. The wood and
the string was hangin' up