“I don’t think tramps would do this,” Arthur said slowly. “They’d steal them, but there’d be no sense in destroying them.” “No,” Maida said slowly. “This looks as though we had an enemy who is determined to make us as unhappy as possible.” CHAPTER XV ARTHUR’S ADVENTURE It was after eleven, a cloudless night and a beautiful one. A great white moon filled the sky with white light and covered the earth with a thin film of silver. The barn door opened slowly and noiselessly. Arthur emerged. Padding the grass as quickly as possible, he moved in the direction of the trail; turned into it. For a while he proceeded swiftly. But once out of hearing of the Little House he moved more slowly and without any efforts to deaden his footsteps. That his excursion had a purpose was apparent from the way that, without pause or stay of any kind, he made steadily forward. It was obvious that the Magic Mirror was his objective. He dipped into the Bosky Dingle and there, perhaps because the air was so densely laden with flower perfumes, he stopped. Only for an instant however. After sniffing the air like some wild creature he went on. Presently he came out on the shore of the lake. Taking a key from his pocket, he opened the little boathouse in which, since the accident, the canoes were nightly locked; pulled one of them out; shoved it into the water. He seated himself in it and started to paddle across the pond. Curiously enough, however, he did not strike straight across the Magic Mirror. He kept close to the edge as though afraid of observation; slipped whenever he could under overhanging boughs; took advantage of every bit of low-drooping bush. So stealthy and so silent was his progress indeed that from the middle of the lake he might not have been observed at all. This was however a slow method. It was nearly midnight when he reached the point about opposite the boathouse, which was apparently his objective. He stopped short of it, however; tied the canoe to a tree trunk, just where a half-broken bough concealed it completely; stepped lightly ashore. Apparently he had landed here before. There developed, under the moonlight, a little side trail which led in the direction of the main trail. He took it. Now his movements were attended by much greater caution. He went slowly and he put his feet down with the utmost care even in the cleared portions of the trail. Wherever underbrush intervened, he took great care to skirt it or, with a long quiet leap or a prolonged straddle, to surmount it so that no sound came from the process. It was surprising, in a boy so lumbering and with feet and hands so large, with what delicacy he picked his way. Indeed, he moved with extraordinary speed and a surprising quiet.