"Well, don't just stand there wringing your hands," Toffee said. "Let's go out and warn them. We'll have to hide this Mario character until they've cooled down and gone away." "I suppose so," Marc said. He turned and, with Toffee's guidance, started up the steps. "At least we know where to look. Maybe we can beat them to it." They hurried up the stairs and out the back door. Marc turned briefly back to Busby. "You stay here," he said. "If Mrs. Pillsworth and Mario return warn them to stay out of sight." "Yes, sir," Busby said. "And I think I'll stay out of sight myself." Marc and Toffee started out. "They're probably down along the stream somewhere," Marc said. "Let's hurry." It was when they had reached the end of the lawns and were starting into the brush that Marc stumbled and lost his glasses. After looking about them then, hurriedly, he gave them up. "I'll just have to do without them," he said. "This is hardly the time to indulge your Puritan sensitivities," Toffee agreed. "Come on!" They forged ahead over rocks and through bushes until they came to the edge of the stream. There they stopped, scanning the banks for as far as they could see, but there was no one. "You go in that direction," Toffee said quickly, "And I'll go upstream. If I find them I'll whistle." Marc nodded agreement and struck out, shoving his way through a thick tangle of foliage. He moved along carefully toward a clearing that he remembered to be ahead. Finally, starting through the last leafy barrier, he caught his coat on a branch. He turned back to loosen it, at the same time backing out into the opening, pulling against the hold of the branch. The gun in his hand, however, made the maneuver awkward. As the coat finally came loose, he fell backwards, landing on the grass. He was just starting to boost himself up, when he heard the scream behind him. It was a shrill scream and filled with horror. There was an ensuing moment of silence, then the sound of swiftly padding feet, scurrying in all directions. Marc turned and looked. At first glance he was deeply startled, having forgotten momentarily the condition of his eyes. A large collection of humanity, glistening pinkly in the afternoon sunlight, were disappearing frenziedly into the surrounding greenery. As their unclad backsides vanished behind cover, Marc noticed that they had left behind them a number of picnic baskets, thermos jugs and blankets. He sat for a moment, getting back his breath, then, on brief reflection, it came to him that these picnickers, whoever they were, had behaved with singular strangeness. Why should they run so desperately for cover just because he had fallen into the clearing?