As though his landing there had been the signal for it, a thin rim of bright light appeared evenly around the bottom of the dark tube, and began to widen steadily. As Marc looked up to discover down what passage he had come, he realized that it was withdrawing into what appeared to be a cloudless blue sky, and instantly his attention was drawn to his immediate surroundings. There was something familiar about the tranquil little valley, with its emerald greenness and its soft blue mist that gave everything a shimmering chiffon-like softness. It was like a place long forgotten that, once remembered, would surely recall happy memories. Marc got to his feet and turned to the tree that stood, alone and lovely, behind him. Then, suddenly he started back in alarm. The tree seemed to have given bud to a pair of extremely well shaped legs. "Well, it's about time!" Toffee said shrewishly, peering out at him from the foliage. "You've no idea how bored I've been, just sitting around in this awful stately mind of yours. I don't see how you can stand the silly thing, yourself. Don't you ever think of anything off-color,--something I could really get my teeth into?" Marc stared at her in dismay as she swung lightly out of the tree. Her red hair, caught by the breeze, seemed like flame. "Good grief!" she continued fretfully. "I've been sitting around up here, waiting for you, for so long, I've nearly got middle-age spread." Marc quickly closed his eyes as she prepared to prove this statement. "I'll take your word for it!" he cried hurriedly. Toffee's deep green eyes suddenly came alight as she grinned. "Oh, all right, you hypocritical old Puritan," she said affectionately. "Now that you're here, I might as well admit I'm glad to see you again." She started toward him. "Kiss me and say hello,--in that order." Marc's hand was instantly raised in defense. "Oh, no!" he cried. "We're not going to have any more of that! It just leads to trouble." Toffee looked grieved. "You haven't changed a bit," she said disappointedly. "And that isn't all," Marc replied evenly. "I'm not _going_ to change, either. When I think of the way you messed things up for me last time,[1] my flesh fairly crawls. You're going to have to sit this one out alone." [Footnote 1: Reference is made to a previous adventure of Toffee and Marc Pillsworth, which appeared in the January issue under the title: "I'll Dream of You."--Ed.] Toffee smiled mysteriously. "Don't you bet any money on that," she said confidently. "Anyway, it won't hurt anything if we just talk over old times, will it?" She motioned toward the tree. "Let's sit down. You look tired." Slowly, and definitely against his better judgment, Marc started in Toffee's direction, then suddenly he stopped short.