forth a heavy scent of Stephanotis and jasmine, mingled with the fragrance of the gardenias and the mulang in the garden. The inward corner of the roof, toward the adjoining house, was in the denser shadows of the ironwoods; and after he had surveyed the rest of the space, he turned to this point and stumbling against something which rattled slightly, he put out his hand and discovered that it was a small iron cot which was set back close to the trellis. "Good!" he thought, "No more suffocation down below. Here is where the victorious hero sleeps tonight."
And forthwith he descended and gathered together his blankets, pillows and sheets and then called Moto, who came from the kitchen distrustfully. "What you make now?" he inquired, and then stopped to stare up at the open skylight.
Dick grinned. "I've got a new bedroom up there," he said. "I want you to hand me up my mattress and sheets," and he turned to ascend the ladder.
The man shook his head protestingly. "I think more better—" he began.
But Dick interrupted; "Moto, you think too much. Don't do it. Some day you'll over-think yourself, and then there'll be the dickens to pay. Come on, hand up that mattress and stop thinking."
And Moto laboriously shouldered the mattress and, ascending the ladder, passed it resignedly through the opening. The sheets and pillows fol-
