Mel made himself decent by exchanging his pajamas for swimming trunks. Then he got a couple of brooms and a hose out of a garage back of the court and went to work. * * * * * He'd cleared the courtyard by the time the first of the seasonal guests began to show up in their doorways, and went on to inspect another, narrower court behind his duplex, which was also his responsibility. There he discovered Maria de Guesgne propped on her elbows on her bedroom window sill, talking reproachfully to a large gray tomcat that was sitting in the court. Both turned to look at Mel. "Good morning, Mel!" Maria said, with unusual animation. She had long black bangs which emphasized her sallow and undernourished appearance. "Morning," Mel replied. "Scat!" he added to the cat, which belonged to somebody else in the neighborhood but was usually to be found stalking about the Oceanview Courts. "You shouldn't frighten poor Cat," said Maria. "Mel, would you look into the bird box?" "Bird box?" "The one in the climbing rose," said Maria, leaning precariously from the window to point. "To your left. Cat was trying to get at it." The bird box was a white-painted, weather-beaten little house set into a straggly rose bush that grew out of a square patch of earth beside Mel's bedroom window. The box was about ten feet above the ground. Mel looked up at it. "I'm sure I heard little birds peeping in it this morning!" Maria explained sentimentally. "No bird in its senses would go into a thing like that," Mel assured her. "I don't hear anything. And besides--" "Please, Mel! We don't want Cat to get them!" Mel groaned, got a wobbly step-ladder out of the garage and climbed up. The gray cat walked over and sat down next to the ladder to watch him. He poked at the box and listened. No sound. "Can't you open the top and look in?" Maria inquired. Holding the box in one hand, Mel tentatively inserted his thumbnail into a crack under its top and pushed. The weathered wood splintered away easily. "Don't break it!" Maria cried. Mel put his eye to the crack he'd made. Then he gasped, jerked back, letting go of the box, teetered wildly a moment and fell over with the step-ladder. The cat fled, spitting. "Oh, my!" said Maria, apparently with some enjoyment. "Poor Mel! Are you hurt?" Mel stood up slowly. The bright morning world seemed to be spinning gently around him, but it wasn't because of his fall. "Of course not," he said. His voice quavered somewhat. "Oh?" said Maria. "Well, then--_are_ there any little birds in the nest?" Mel swallowed hard. "No," he said. He bent over and carefully picked up the ladder and placed it against the wall. The action made it unnecessary to look at her. "Eggs?" she asked in a hopeful tone. "No eggs either! No nothing!" His voice was steady again, but he had to get rid of Maria. "Well, I'll clean up this court now, I guess. Uh--maybe you'd like to come down and lend a hand?"