face that had dragged her down into the sewer once? That man was
dead. Who was this?

She gazed at the bedroom window, holding the huge revolver
tightly. There, vague in the night light, appeared a figure.
Surely that was no dream face of the oxygen helmet. Besides, it
was not the same helmet.

She sat bolt upright and fired, pointblank, at the window,
shivering the glass. A second later she had leaped from the bed,
switched on the lights and was running to the sill.

Down-stairs, Aunt Tabby and Uncle Joshua had heard the shot.
Joshua was now wide awake. He seized his old shotgun and ran out
into the livingroom. Followed by Aunt Tabby, he hurried to Elaine.

"Wh-what was it?" he asked, puffing at the exertion of running up-
stairs.

"I saw--a face--at the window--with some kind of thing over it!"
gasped Elaine. "It was like one I saw once before."

Uncle Joshua did not wait to hear any more. With the gun pointed
ahead of him, ready for instant action, he ran out of the room and
into the garden, beneath Elaine's window.

He looked about for signs of an intruder. There was not a sound.
No one was about, here.

"I don't see any one," he called up to Elaine and Atint Tabby in