The box-shop was built about fifty feet back from the road. Not back so far, however, but that Jake had an unobstructed view of the office door. There were no lights in the gaunt, ark-like structure. The nearest arc lamp was an eighth of a mile away, across the waving acres of cattails, and rushes. Also the moon was going down. Nevertheless, outlined quite clearly in the window of that inky black office door was a human torso. Also a very white face. It was absolutely motionless,—that apparition. As Jake chanced to be in the shadow of the rushes across the road, it appeared to take no note of him or behave as though he had seen. Jake could not pass onward. He stood rooted to the spot while icy chills played up and down his back. Who could be in an unlighted box-shop at three in the morning, standing grimly behind the door glass, gazing out into the waning night, “like corpses fresh from the grave?” Jake was too far away to make out the features or gain any idea of identity. He simply remained motionless and watched. Then as picture films dissolve and fade into gray nothingness, so that apparition dissolved into the blackness behind. The oblong of door window was empty once more. Jake finally believed a great physical weariness had been responsible for an optical illusion. He went home. But he awoke his wife and told her and Milly and the oldest boy also awoke and heard. The boy confided to his sister when the house had quieted: “I seen lots o’ funny lights in the box-shop in the night! This ain’t no news to me! Huh, I thought dad had more brains!” “Brains? Whatter you mean?” demanded Milly. The young worldly wiseman laughed, turned over and went back to sleep. II It was Milly who carried the news to Nathan the following morning. Johnathan never arrived at the office until nine or ten o’clock. But he never failed to set the alarm for five-thirty. When it banged off, he called to Nathan and kept calling him until he had the boy awakened and groggily dressing. Johnathan believed that a proprietor should always be the first one at a place of business in the morning. It set the proper example for the rest of the “help.” So Nathan always reached the place at a quarter to seven. Milly called Nat over behind the paper-cutter. She whispered what her father had seen before she shed her big over-sized cloak for work. Nathan’s face colored queerly. “Please keep this to yourself, Milly,” he ordered. “If it gets out, and the other girls believe it, they may quit in fright and refuse to come back, especially if I should want them to work overtime, nights.”