edge, then, and paddled her feet. Nick sat up, outraged. “Say, you can’t do that.”

She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Oh, yes, I can. It’s so hot.” She wriggled her toes ecstatically.

The leaves rustled again, briskly, unmistakably this time. A heavy tread. A rough voice. “Say, looka here! Get out of there, you! What the — — ” A policeman, red-faced, wroth. “You can’t do that! Get outa here!”

It was like a movie, Nick thought.

The girl turned her head. “Oh, now, Mr. Elwood,” she said.

“Oh, it’s you, miss,” said the policeman. You would not have believed it could be the same policeman. He even giggled.