But in a moment she heard the balustrade of the stair creak.
"It's Izzy again!" thought Ruth, sitting up in bed. "He's walking in his sleep. The boys did not tie him."
She crept out ot bed softly so as not to awaken Helen or the other girls and went to the door. When she opened it and peered out, there was no ghostly figure "tight-roping it" on the balustrade. But she heard a sound below—in the lower hall. Somebody was fumbling with the chain of the front door.
"He's going out! I declare, he's going out!" thought Ruth and sped to the window.
She heard the jar of the big front door as it was opened, and then pulled shut again. She heard no step on the porch, but a figure soon fluttered down the steps. It was not Isadore Phelps, however. Ruth knew that at first glance. Indeed, it was not a boy who started away from the house, running on the grass beside the graveled walk.
Ruth turned back hastily and looked at the other bed—at Mercy's bed. The place beside the lame girl was empty. Nita had disappeared!
