h mattresses!"

Almost choked with excitement, Madaline managed to reach Mrs. Dunbar,
repeat Cleo's orders, then hurry with her and Grace, who was now
dragging Jennie along, down the stairs to the front door.

Mrs. Dunbar held her revolver in her right hand while Jennie unbolted
the big heavy door.

"Let me go first!" Mrs. Dunbar ordered. "Jennie, flash the light ahead
of us."

As the maid followed this order a small streak of light made a safe
path out to the edge of the porch.

"There comes Michael," exclaimed Jennie, venturing out next, and no one
could have misunderstood the note of relief in her voice.

Above them Cleo had climbed in the tree as quietly as the green limb,
swaying under her light weight, permitted. Her flash light now was in
the pocket of her pajamas, and as she mounted a strong branch and
pulled herself nearer the tree trunk, she seemed scarcely more than
some wild night bird seeking refuge.

She could now see Mary's face, and as it showed no expression of
recognition she was confident the girl was sleeping. Crawling nearer
with slow, sure moves, holding to small branches from overhead, and
then balancing to the strong limb on which she sat and hitched herself
along, Cleo paid no heed to the commotion under the tree.

She must first grasp the girl who sat so silently, her one arm wound
around the light tree trunk, her head leaning against it in the most
matter-of-fact attitude, almost caressing the gray button ball wood,
while even in the dark those two dark braids of hair were tragically
outlined against the white of her clinging night robe.

One more shift of her body and Cleo had her arm around Mary. With the
other she held firmly to the tree.

"Quick!" she called now, realizing the mattresses were placed beneath
them. "We may fall!"

As she spoke Mary shuddered, and gasped.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Reda, I am here!"

"It is not Reda," Cleo answered in that droning voice she believed
necessary to use.

"It is I, Cleo. Be careful. We are safe. Don't move!" for the one
bare arm was relinquishing its hold on the tree. "Wait a minute. We
can climb down. See, Michael has fetched a ladder."

Somehow realizing her strange predicament, the girl at once became
obedient to Cleo's orders. She turned exactly as directed, made her
way down the branches to the unobstructed tree trunk, where she backed
to the tall, strong ladder, placed securely against the bark by Michael.

Will