“Tee! hee! hee! hee!”

It was the voice that had called from a distance.  Hearing it now she felt a sudden, sickish, sinking feeling.  She whirled.

A strange creature was kneeling behind her—­a creature dressed in black sateen, and like no human being that she had ever met before.  For it was two-faced!

One face (the front) was blowzy and freckled, with a small pug nose and a quarrelsome mouth.  The other (the face on what, with ordinary persons, was the back of the head) was dark and forbidding, its nose a large brick-colored pug, the mouth underneath shaped most extraordinarily—­not unlike a barrette, for it was wide and long, and square at the corners, and full of shining tortoise-shell teeth!  But the creature had only one tongue.  This was loose at both ends, so that there was one tip for her front face, and one for the back.  But she had only one pair of eyes.  These were reddish.  They watched Gwendolyn boldly from the front; then rolled quickly to the rear to stare at the Man-Who-Makes-Faces.

At sight of the two-faced creature, Gwendolyn shrank away, frightened.

“Oh!—­oh, my!” she faltered.

Both horrid mouths now bellowed hilariously.  And the creature reached out a big hand.

“Look here, Gwendolyn!” it ordered.  “You ain’t goin’!”

Gwendolyn lifted terrified eyes for a second look at the brick-colored hair, the blowzy countenance.  No possibility of doubt remained!

It was Jane!

CHAPTER IX

Bobbing and swaying foolishly, the nurse-maid shuffled to her feet.  And Gwendolyn, though she wanted to turn and flee beyond the reach of those big, clutching hands, found herself rooted to the ground, and could only stand and stare helplessly.

The Man-Who-Makes-Faces stepped to her side hastily.  His look was perturbed.  “My!  My!” he exclaimed under his breath.  “She’s worse than I thought!—­much worse.”

With a little gasp of relief at having him so near, Gwendolyn slipped her trembling fingers into his.  “She’s worse than I thought,” she managed to whisper back.

Neither was given a chance to say more.  For seeing them thus, hand in hand, Jane suddenly started forward—­with a great boisterous hop and skip.  Her front face was distorted with a jealous scowl.  She gave Gwendolyn a rough sidewise shove.

“Git away from that old beggar!” she commanded harshly.  “Why, he’ll kidnap you!  Look at his knife!”

Nimbly the little old gentleman thrust himself in front of her, barring her way, and shielding Gwendolyn.  “Who told you where she was?” he asked angrily.

“Who?” mocked Jane, impudently.  “Well, who is it that tells people things?”

“You mean the Bird?”

Jane’s front face broke into a pleased grin.  “I mean the Bird,” she bragged And balanced from foot to foot.