Smedley is tuckered out. Images of the Evil Owl flash in his mind as he lapses into a relaxing slumber. After hours of pleasant sleep, he suddenly hears an odd sound. There is a rustling of leaves outside on the lawn, and then silence.

Presently, some kind of mechanism purrs, then stops, and there are sounds of footsteps padding about his property. The purring of small motors begins again, and then suddenly stops.