To say that Billy was glad to see real sunshine and feel its warmth again, hardly expresses his joy, when, on emerging from Aurora Borealis, he floated into a warmer climate.

And the next time his feet touched earth it did not take him long to take off his rabbit skin and give it back to the Singing Tree. And then how he and Barker rolled on the soft green grass, breathed in the sweet, flower-scented air, and basked in the sunlight!

"You saved my life, old boy," said Billy, patting Barker's head. And Barker wagged his little tail and cocked his head on one side, as much as to say: "I'm glad, and I would do it again if I had the opportunity, Billy Bounce."

"And now, off we go," said Billy, thrusting Barker into his pocket and jumping up into the air.

Now it is hard to say just exactly how it happened—whether Barker slipped out of Billy's pocket, or just climbed out, thinking that he too could float in the air, I do not know. At any rate the first thing Billy knew there was a sharp jerk on the string that Barker was tied to—a frightened yelp, and there was doggie being dragged up and up through the air by his collar.

Of course it did not take Billy a minute to haul Barker up to him and to catch him in his arms; but even then it was none too soon, for in another moment there would have been no more Barker.

"Poor old fellow," cried Billy, snuggling him up in his arms. "Your dog days were nearly ended that time, weren't they?"

And he was still soothing and patting Barker when his feet crashed through a jungle of blades and stalks, and he found himself in an enormous corn field. He looked about him, and saw dimly ahead through the corn a factory building; at least he took it for this, for he could hear the distant hum of machinery and the churn-churn-churn of an engine.

"Now I wonder where I am," said Billy, beginning to walk toward the factory.

"Stop—or you are a dead man—or boy," said a voice at his side.

Turning, Billy found himself looking down the barrel of a cap pistol. But not being particularly interested in what he saw there, he looked further and discovered the face of its owner. On his head was a very, very large wig of raveled rope, and attached to his chin by large elastic bands that ran over his ears was a heavily matted blue beard. Following the beard to its end, Billy's eyes traveled on down to a large tin star.

"Who are you?" asked Billy in surprise.

"Snawksnaw, the famous boy detecative," cried the boy, pulling off beard and wig with one sweep of his hand, and folding his arms dramatically.

"What do you detect?" asked Billy.

"Hist!" said the boy, again putting on the wig and beard, and pointing the cap pistol at him. "Hist! I detect crime, but move not or I will be-low your be-rains out."

"Is that a disguise?" asked Billy, pointing to the boy detective's hair and beard.

"It is, and a perfect one. Who would ever guess that Snawksnaw, the famous boy detecative, and this bearded ruffian were one and the same person? This is my favorite transform."

"But why did you get a blue beard?"

"Ah-ha! that is the completest part of the disguise; for though they might guess that I would raise a black beard or a yellow one or a red one, who would think that I could raise a blue one?" Then scowling terribly, he hissed, "Are you one of them?"

"One of whom?" asked Billy.

"One of the party of desperate men that inhabit yon fair but foul factory?"

"Of course not; I've just arrived."

"Ah-h, then perhaps you, too, are a detecative on the same trail; but I warn you Snawksnaw will have no partner to share the glory of this capture. I have run them to earth, and mean to take them single handed."

"What have they done?" asked Billy.

"I know not. That I will find out when I have bound and gagged them."

"Then you don't know them?"

"Yes," and Snawksnaw seeing no immediate use for his pistol carefully put it in his hip pocket after examining the cap to see that it was still in place. "Nothing like being sure of one's firearms," he said, "for should me trusty 32 miss fire at a critical moment I should be in a dangerous position."

"Who are they?"

"Nickel Plate, the Polished villain."

"What!" cried Billy, "Nickel Plate?"

"Yes, and Bumbus."

"Bumbus?"

"Yes, and Drone."

"Drone? I don't know him."

"He's a cowardly ruffian, the tool of Nickel Plate."

"A sort of Nickel Plated tool," said Billy, laughing.

"I suppose so," said Snawksnaw seriously, missing the joke. "And worst of all their fair but false accomplice Glucose, possessing a beautiful face to look upon, but with the crafty, crawling, venomous wiles of the serpent."

"I've heard of Glucose," said Billy; "she is the one they tried to put in Honey Girl's place at the Bee Palace."

"Ah-ha!" cried Snawksnaw, "a case of abduction—but I will foil them—it shall be my greatest shadow. I must perfect my disguise in such a serious case," and taking off his coat he turned it inside out and struggled into it. "Now I defy them."

"You're not going to the factory, are you?" asked Billy.

"I don't know—if I just knew what old Sneuth, the detective, would do under the circumstances I could decide."

"Huh! I shouldn't wait for that," said a voice. Looking up, Billy and Snawksnaw saw Bumbus leaning against a cornstalk, wearing a very self-satisfied but wicked grin.

"So it's my old friend Billy Bounce," continued he.

"Bumbus!" was all Billy could say.

"I be," said Bumbus; "who's your friend?"

"Snawksnaw, the famous boy detecative," shouted that youth, drawing his cap pistol. "But I shall sell my life dearly," and he snapped the cap at Bumbus. How it did make Bumbus jump, but instead of falling dead in his tracks as they do in dime novels, he seized Billy's collar with one hand and reached for the boy detective's collar with the other.

"Missed!" cried Snawksnaw, throwing his pistol to the ground; "ten thousand furies. I don't know what old Sneuth would do now, but I know what I'm going to do," and he ran off as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Good riddance," said Bumbus, laughing, "which proves beyond a doubt that the wicked flourish like a green bay rum tree."

"How is that?" asked Billy.

"Meaning that no matter how close the shave, green bay rum can face it."

"I suppose you are going to take me prisoner to the factory," said Billy, wishing to have the worst over as soon as possible.

"My, my, but you are a good guesser," then calling loudly, "Nickel Plate, Drone—here is Billy Bounce."

"Ha-ha-ha-ha!" laughed Nickel Plate, striding through the corn. "So Billy Bounce is once more in our power, eh! This time he shall not escape us."

"Yaw-haw," yawned a sleepy-looking Bee, coming slowly out of the factory.

"Come, wake up, Drone!" cried Bumbus.

"Aw-ri," yawned Drone.

Here Billy thought he saw an opportunity to run, and giving a sharp twist he broke from Bumbus and started away to get room to jump. But alas for his hopes! the cornstalks suddenly intertwined their tops all about and over him and he found himself again a prisoner.

"How impolite!" laughed Bumbus, "how very impolite of you to think of going away without saying good-by!"

"To the factory with him," said Nickel Plate in a loud voice. And Billy was pulled and hauled through the cornfield up to the factory which bore the sign "Nickel Plate, Bumbus and Glucose." Inside past the grinding machinery and the great vats of boiling syrup and finally thrust into a little room marked "Office."

"Honey Girl!" he cried, catching sight of a young girl seated at the typewriter.

"Billy Bounce!" she cried, starting to her feet with a peculiar smile; but the sound of her voice and something about her eyes told him that it was not Honey Girl at all, but Glucose, that stood before him.

"I, I beg your pardon," he stammered; "I thought you were the Princess."

"Well?" she said questioningly.

"But I see now I was mistaken; you are Glucose."

"Beware, Billy Bounce, how you anger a woman—hereafter address me as Honey Girl, or take the consequences." So saying, Glucose closed down her desk and hurriedly left the room.

"I suppose I've made another enemy—but I don't care; she's proved now that she is not Honey Girl, and this knowledge may prove useful some day." Billy was seated in a chair near the door when suddenly through the keyhole and above the hum of machinery came the sound of voices.

"We must get the note from him and prevent his seeing Bogie Man," said the voice of Bumbus.

"Yes," said Nickel Plate, "but I fear that so long as he lives he will be in our way."

"Throw him in the grinder," suggested Drone.

"Or boil him in a syrup vat," added Bumbus.

"Too sweet a death," said Nickel Plate. "Of one thing I am certain—he must die."

Then their voices died away, showing that they had moved off.

"I suppose it's all up with me," said Billy, looking about him for some means of escape. "Oh! how I wish I had Mr. Gas here—I'll try Umberufen: perhaps he can carry the message."

You can imagine that it did not take him long to touch wood, and "Zip!" Umberufen stood before him.

"Well, so you need me again, do you?"

"Yes, sir," said Billy.

"The last time you treated me very badly."

"I'm very sorry."

"Humph! that won't pay for a ruined suit of clothes—everything I had on warped dreadfully. But I suppose I shall have to forgive you—what is it?"

"I want you to carry a message to Mr. Gas."

"Out of my district," said Umberufen curtly.

"But you often go to Mr. Gas," said Billy; "this is a matter of life and death."

"I can't go to him unless he touches wood."

"But you are supposed to do what I ask you to."

"Anything here yes, but I'm not an errand boy," answered Umberufen indifferently.

"Have you no heart?" exclaimed Billy.

"Certainly, but Mr. Gas didn't hire that—he just arranged for my brains and ability."

"Then whatever he pays you he's got a bad bargain," said Billy angrily. "You may go."

"There you go, showing your temper again —goodness, I wouldn't have your disposition for anything—good-by," and Umberufen disappeared.

"I wish I could sneeze—perhaps Gehsundheit would take the message—I'll try," but do what he would Billy could not make himself sneeze. He tickled his nose with a straw, snuffed up dust, did everything he could think of but not a sneeze would come. At last he gave up in despair. "I'll imitate a sneeze," cried he—"ca-choo!" It did not sound very much like a sneeze, but sure enough a shadowy form of Gehsundheit appeared before him.

"Gehsundheit," came from the figure but it sounded far, far away like an echo.

"At last," cried Billy. "Oh! Gehsundheit, I need your help."

"So, iss it?" he whispered.

"Yes, I want you to carry a message to Mr. Gas."

"Alas! it cannot be did."

"Why not?"

"Because I am not here."

"Not here—where are you?"

"At home in my castle."

"But I can see you."

"No, it iss but my shadow."

"Why didn't you come yourself? I sneezed."

"It vas not a real sneeze, so the real Gehsundheit could not come—good-by," and slowly the form faded away.

"Well! what do you think of that?" exclaimed Billy as the last of Gehsundheit vanished into thin air.

"I never think," said Bumbus, suddenly opening the door. "Why waste time in thought when thoughtlessness makes more trouble than villainy?"

"I don't see the point," said Billy.

"It has no point, it's a blunt statement—but come along."

"Where?"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no truths," said Bumbus. "Come along."

"I don't want to," said Billy, holding back.

"Before you get much older you'll do many things you don't want to—that is, if you live to get older."

By this time Drone had come in and was leaning against Billy, fast asleep.

"Wake up, Drone, and help," said Bumbus.

"Oh!" said Drone, "I just dreamed that I was asleep."

"That's one dream that came true," said Bumbus; "now out with him." Bumbus pulled and Drone pushed, and although the latter went to sleep three or four times before they got out of the room, Billy finally found himself in the main factory where Nickel Plate was directing some workmen in taking the lid off of a vat.

"Ah, ha!" said Nickel Plate when he saw Billy. "Now, boy, I will give you a last chance—promise that you will give up all search for Bogie Man and return the note to me and we will free you, otherwise——"

"It will be a case of boil instead of freeze," interrupted Bumbus.

"Then boil!" cried Billy. "I must do my duty while I live."

"In with him!" cried Nickel Plate.

"In with him!" cried Bumbus.

"Yah-haw!" yawned Drone.

And with that they lifted Billy up and were about to drop him into the vat, when through the open skylight and down in their midst dropped Mr. Gas. He was seated in his big arm-chair which was carried along by hundreds of toy balloons of all colors.

"Hold!" he cried.

But instead of holding they were all so surprised that they let go of Billy and he fell to the floor, just missing the vat by a few inches. Luckily he lit on his feet, and, of course, as this was just the same as a jump, he bounded up again and out through the skylight, followed by Mr. Gas.