"Good Lord! You--you'd think there _was_ some one there by the way you talk." "He leaped from behind that tree to this one over here. It must be thirty feet. How perfectly amazing!" By this time the good Marshal was noticeably impressed. There was no denying the fact that his voice shook. "_Now_ who's lying?" he cried out. She took no offence. Instead she pointed down the dark sidewalk. It seemed to him that her arm was six feet long. He was fascinated by it. "Now he is climbing up the tree--just like a squirrel. Look!" Anderson felt the cold perspiration starting out all over his body. "I--I swear I can't see anybody at all," the Marshal croaked weakly. "Run over to that tree and look up, Mr. Crow," she whispered in great agitation. "He is sitting on that big limb, looking at us--his eyes are like little balls of fire. Send him away, please." Haltingly the Marshal edged his way toward the tree. Coming to its base, he peered upward. He saw nothing that resembled a human figure. "Be careful!" called out the Veiled Lady. "He is about to swing down upon your head. Hurry! There! Didn't you feel that?" Anderson Crow made a flying leap for safety. He had the uncanny feeling that his hair was slowly lifting the hat from his head. "Feel--feel what?" he gasped. "He swung down by his hands and kicked at you. I was sure his foot struck your head. Ah! There he goes again. See him? He is climbing over my wall--no, he is running along the top of it. Like the wind! And he--" "Good heavens! Am I--am I goin' blind?" groaned Mr. Crow, his eyes bulging. "Now he has disappeared behind the rosebushes down in the corner of the lot. He must be the same man I have seen--always about this time in the evening. If he isn't one of your men, Mr. Crow, who in Heaven's name is he?" "You--you have seen him before?" murmured the Marshal, reaching up to make sure that his hat was still in place. "Four or five times. Last night he climbed up and stood beside that big chimney up there--silhouetted against the sky. He looked very tall--much taller than any ordinary man. The night before, he was out here on the lawn, jumping from bush to bush, for all the world like a harlequin. Once he actually leaped from the ground up to the roof of the porch, as easily as you would spring--Where are you going, Mr. Crow?" "I--I thought I saw him runnin' down the street just now," said Anderson Crow, quickening his pace after a parting glance over his shoulder at the tall lady in the gateway. "Maybe I can overtake him if I--if I--But I guess I'd better hurry. He seems to be runnin' mighty fast." He was twenty feet away when she called after him, a note of warning in her voice: "You are mistaken! He is following you--he is right at your heels, Mr. Crow." * * * * *