In a flash Andy fancied he understood the situation, the motive of this fellow’s presence here and now.

“Jim Tapp found out my aunt,” theorized Andy rapidly.  “He, this fellow, and the mail thieves are all in a crowd.  Murdock here has probably come to tell my aunt that he knows where I am.  She may have made a bargain to pay him well if he will kidnap me, or in any way get me back to Fairview.  It’s a fine fix to be in!” concluded Andy bitterly.

He was for getting back to the ground, going to the circus, turning in the contract, giving up all hopes of show life, and getting to a safe distance before his enemies could capture him.

“No, I won’t!” resolved Andy a second later, acting on a new impulse.  “At least, not right away.  I’ll turn one trick on my enemies, first.  The circus detectives want this scoundrel, Murdock, bad.  I’ll get down, follow him, and have him arrested the first policeman we meet.”

Andy, bent on a descent, paused.  Murdock was speaking.

“Are you going back home to Fairview to-night, Miss Talcott?” he asked.

“Yes,” snapped Andy’s aunt in her usual quick; sharp way.

“Then I will call on you at Fairview.”

“If you want to,” was the ungracious answer.

“No, no,” softly declared the oily rogue—­“if you want me to, madam.  This is your business, Miss Talcott.”

“Oh,” observed Andy’s aunt snappily, “you’re working for nothing, I suppose?”

“I’m not,” frankly answered Murdock.  “I’m working for a fee.  What I get, though, is so small compared with what you may get—­”

“Very well,” interrupted Miss Lavinia, “when you have this matter in a clear, definite shape, I shall be ready to listen to you.”

“Good evening, then, madam.”

“Evening,” retorted Andy’s aunt with a curt nod, going on with her packing.

Andy rested his hand against the house to get a purchase and leap to the ground.

“Pshaw!” he exclaimed abruptly.

One of the hoop poles bent nearly in two, throwing him off his balance.

Andy caught at the window sill, and his body slipped to one side.  He tried to drop, found himself impeded, and held himself steady, looking down.

His rustling about had made something of a racket.  As he was seeking to determine what had caught and held the side of his coat, one of the wooden shutters was thrust violently open.

Its edge struck his head.  He dodged aside.  Then he sat staring, the full light from within the room showing him to its occupant as plain as day.

“Um!” commented Miss Lavinia, simply.  “Some one was there.  And you, Andy Wildwood!”

Andy was taken aback.  His aunt was not particularly startled.  She rather looked stern and suspicious.  She did not grab him, or call for help, or seem to care whether he came in or stayed out.

“Yes, it’s me, Aunt,” said Andy, a good deal crestfallen and embarrassed.  “You see, I wanted to see you—­”