So far, the Piper had seemed to be no one's friend--unless, perhaps, his
own. He had lagged along, surly or boisterous by turns, and careless of
his manners; not even showing respect to the Man-Who-Makes-Faces and the
Policeman! But now Gwendolyn remarked a change in him. For as he spoke
to her, he took his pipe out of his mouth--under the pretext of cleaning
it.
"Say!" he began in a cautious undertone: "I'll give you some advice
about Jane."
Gwendolyn was looking about her at the Zoo. Its roofs seemed countless.
They touched, having no streets between them anywhere, and reached as
far as she could see. They were all heights, all shapes, all
varieties--some being level, others coming to a point at one corner, a
few ending in a tower. One tower, on the outer-most edge of the Zoo, was
square, and tapered.
"Jane?" she said indifferently. "Oh, she's only a top."
"Only a top!" It was the little old gentleman. "Why, that makes her all
the _more_ dangerous!"
"Because she's spinning so fast"--the Policeman balanced on one arm
while he shook an emphatic finger--"that she'll stir up trouble!"
"Well, then, what shall I do?" asked Gwendolyn. For, elated over seeing
Thomas disposed of so completely--and yet with so much mercy--she was
impatient at hearing that she still had reason to fear the nurse.
The Piper took his time about replying. He sharpened one end of a
match, thrust the bit of pine into the stem of his pipe, jabbed away
industriously, threw away the match, blew through the stem once or
twice, and turned the bowl upside down to make it _plop, plop_ against a
palm. Then, "Keep Jane laughin'," he counseled, "--_and see what
happens_."
Jane was alongside, spinning comfortably on her shoe-leather point. Now,
as if she had overheard, or guessed a plot, sudden uneasiness showed on
both her countenances, and she increased her speed.
"You done up Thomas, the lot of you," she charged, as she whirled away.
"But you don't git _me_."
"And we won't," declared Gwendolyn, "if we don't hurry up and trip her."
"A _good_ idear!" chimed in the Piper.
"If we only had some string!" cried the little old gentleman.
"String won't do," said the Policeman. "We need rope."
There was a high wind sweeping the roofs. And as the three began to run
about, searching, it fluttered the Policeman's coat-tails, swelled out
the Piper's cap, and tugged at the ragged garb of the Man-Who-Makes-Faces.
"Here's a piece of clothes-line!"
The Policeman made the find--catching sight of the line where it dangled
from the edge of a roof. The others hastened to join him. And each
seized the rope in both hands, the Piper staying at one end of it, the
little old gentleman at the opposite, while Gwendolyn and the Policeman
posted themselves at proper distances between. Then forward in a row
swept all, carrying the rope with them. It was a curious one of its
kind--as black as if it had been tarred, thick at the middle, but
noticeably thin at one end.
Jane saw their design. "Ba-a-a!" she mocked. "_I'm_ not afraid of you!
I'm goin' to turn the Big Rock. _Then_ you'll see!" And she made
straight toward the square tower in the distance.
"_Oh!_" It was the little old gentleman, beard blown sidewise by the
wind. "We musn't let her!"
The Piper, in his excitement, jounced the pig so hard that it squealed.
"We ought to be able," he panted, "to manage a top."
"Jane!" bellowed the Policeman, galloping hard. "You must _not_ injure
that shaft!"
Then Gwendolyn realized that the square _tower_ toward which the nurse
was spinning was the Big Rock. And she recognized it as a certain great
pillar of pink granite, up and down the sides of which, deep cut by
chisels, were written strange words.
It rose just ahead. Answering the Officer with a shrill, scoffing laugh,
Jane bore down upon it. Aided by the wind, she made top speed.
There was not a moment to lose. Her pursuers fairly tore after her. And
the Piper, who made the fastest progress, gained--until he was at her
very heels. Then with a final leap, he passed her, and circled, dragging
the rope.
It made a loop about the buttonless shoes--a loop that tightened as the
little old gentleman came short, as the Piper halted. Each gave a pull--
With disastrous result! For as the line came taut, up Jane went!--caught
bodily from the ground. And still spinning, whizzed forward in that
high wind and struck the granite squarely.
She fell to the ground, toppling sidewise, and bulking large.
But the shaft! It began to move--slowly at first--to tip forward,
farther and farther. When, gaining velocity, with a great grinding
noise, down from off the massive cube upon which it stood it came
crashing!
Instantly a chorus of cries arose: "Oh, she's bumped over the obelisk!
She's bumped over the obelisk!"
With the cries, and sounding from beneath the tapered end of the Big
Rock, mingled ferocious growls--"_Rar! Rar! Rar! Rar!_"
And in that same moment, the four who were holding the rope felt it
begin to writhe and twist in their grasp!--_like a live thing_. And its
black length took on a scaly look, glittering in that pink glow as if
it were covered with small ebon _paillettes_. It grew cold and clammy.
At its thicker end Gwendolyn saw that the Piper was supporting a head--a
head with small, fiery eyes and a tongue flame-like in its color and
swift darting. Next, "_Hiss-s-s-s-s!_" And with one hideous contortion,
the huge black body wrung itself free and coiled.
Once Gwendolyn had boasted that she was not afraid of snakes. And now
she did not flee, though the black coils were piled at her very feet.
For she recognized the serpent. There was no mistaking that thin face
and those small eyes. Moreover, a pocket-handkerchief was bound round
the reptilian jaws and tied at the top of the head in a bow-knot.
She had gotten rid of Thomas. But here was Miss Royle!
There was no time for greetings. Again were sounding those furious
growls--"_Rar! Rar! Rar!_"
Jane swung round in a half-circle to warn the governess. "It's that
Bear!" she hummed. "Can't you drive him away?"
Miss Royle began to uncoil.
The Policeman was _tick-tocking_ up and down. "The Den's damaged!" he
lamented.
"_Now_, who's goin' to pay?" demanded the Piper.
"I'm afraid the Bear's hurt," declared the Man-Who-Makes-Faces.
In her eagerness to trip Jane, Gwendolyn had utterly forgotten the
Bear's Den. Now she saw it--a large cage, light in color, its bars woven
closely together. And she saw too--with horror--that what the Policeman
said was true: In falling, the Big Rock had broken the cover of the
Den. This cover was flopping up and down on its hinges.
"Oh, he's loose!" she gasped.
"_Rar! Rar! Rar-r-r!_"
The Bear himself was knocking the cover into the air. The top of his
head could be seen as he hopped about, evidently in pain.
And now an extraordinary thing happened: A black glittering body shot
rustling through the grass to the side of the Den. Then up went a scaly
head, and forth darted a flaming tongue--driving the Bear back under the
cover!
At which the Bear rebelled. For his growls turned into a muffled
protest--"Now, you stop, Miss Royle! I _won't_ be treated like this! I
_won't!_"
Then Gwendolyn understood Jane's hum! And why the governess had obeyed
it so swiftly. The light-colored cage with the loose cover was nothing
else than the old linen-hamper! As for the Bear--!
Hair flying, cheeks crimson, eyes shining with quick tears of joy, she
darted past Jane, leaped the glittering snake-folds before the hamper,
and swung the cover up on its hinges.
"Puffy!" she cried. "Oh, Puffy!"
It was indeed Puffy, with his plushy brown head, his bright, shoe-button
eyes, his red-tipped, sharply pointed nose, his adorably tiny ears, and
deep-cut, tightly shut, determined mouth. It was Puffy, as dear as ever!
As old and as squashy!
He stood up in the hamper to look at her, leaning his front paws--in
rather a dignified manner--on the broken edge of the basketry. He was
breathing hard from his contest, but smiling nevertheless.
"Ah!" said he, affably. "The Poor Little Rich Girl, I see!"
Gwendolyn's first impulse was to take him up in her arms. But his proud
air, combined with the fact that he had grown tremendously, caused her
to check the impulse.
"How do you do?" she inquired politely.
"I'm pretty shabby, thank you."
"Oh, it's _so_ good to hear your voice again!" she exclaimed. "When you
left, I didn't have a chance to tell you good-by."
It was then that she noticed a white something fluttering at his breast,
just under his left fore-leg. "Excuse me," she said apologetically, "but
aren't you losing your pocket handkerchief?"
Sadly he shook his head. "It's my stuffing," he explained. And gently
withdrawing his paw from her eager grasp, laid it upon his breast. "You
see, the Big Rock--"
The little old gentleman was beside him, examining the wound; muttering
to himself.
"Can you mend him?" asked Gwendolyn. "Oh, Puffy!"
The little old gentleman began to empty his pockets of the articles with
which he had provided himself--the ear, the handful of hair, the plump
cheek. "Ah! Ah!" he breathed as he examined each one; and to and fro
wagged the grizzled beard. "I'm afraid--! I must have help. This is a
case that will require a specialist."
The tone was so solemn that it frightened her. "Oh, do you mean we need
a _Doctor?_"
Puffy was trembling weakly. "I lost some cotton-batting once before,"
he half-whispered to Gwendolyn. "It was when you were teething. Oh, I
know it was unintentional! You were _so_ little. But--I can't spare any
more."
Down into the patch-pocket went her hand. Out came the lip-case. She
thrust it into his furry grasp. "Keep this," she bade, "till I come
back. _I'll_ go for the Doctor."
The Man-Who-Makes-Faces leaned down. "Fly!" he urged.
At that, Jane began to circle once more. "Lovie," she hummed, "don't you
go! He'll give you nasty medicine!"
"Hiss-s-s-s!" chimed in Miss Royle, her bandaged head rising and
lowering in assent. "He'll cut out your appendix."
One moment she hesitated, feeling the old fear drive the blood from her
cheeks--to her wildly beating heart. Then she saw Puffy sway, half
fainting. And obeying the command of the little old gentleman, she
grasped her gingham dress at either side--held it out to its fullest
width--and with the wind pouching the little skirt, left the high grass,
passed up through the lights of the nearby trees--and rose into the
higher air!
She gave a glance down as she went. How excitedly Jane was circling! How
Miss Royle was lashing the ground!
But the faces of the other three were smiling encouragement. And she
flew for her very life. Lightly she went--as if there were nothing to
her but her little gingham dress; as if that empty dress, having tugged
at some swagging clothes-line until it was free, were now being wafted
across the roofs, the tree-tops, the smooth windings of a road, to--
A bake-shop, without doubt! For her nostrils caught the good smell of
fresh bread. Suddenly the shop loomed ahead of her. She alighted to
have a look at it.
It was a round, high, stone building, with stone steps leading up to it
from every side, and columns ranged in a circle at the top of the steps.
Seated on the bottom step, engrossed in some task, was a man.
As Gwendolyn looked at him she told herself that the Man-Who-Makes-Faces
had given this customer such a nice face; the eyes, in particular, were
kind.
He had a large pan of bread-dough beside him. Out of it, now, he gouged
a spoonful, which he began to roll between his palms. And as he rolled
the dough, it became rounder and rounder, until it was ball-like. It
turned browner and browner, too, precisely as if it were baking in his
hands! When he was finished with it, he piled it to one side, atop
other brown pellets.
She advanced to speak. "Please," she began, pointing a small finger,
"what is this place?"
He glanced up. "This, little girl, is the Pillery."
The Pillery! Instantly she knew what he was making--_bread-pills_.
And the bread-pills helped her to recognize him. She dimpled cordially.
"I haven't seen you since I had the colic," she said, nodding, "but I
know you. You're the Doctor!"
The Doctor was most cordial, shaking her hand gently; after which,
naturally enough, he felt her pulse.
"But there's nothing the matter with _me_," she protested. "It's my dear
Puffy. _You_ remember."
Now he rose solemnly, selected a fresh-baked pill, bowed to the right,
again to the left, last of all, to her--and presented the pill.
"In that case, Miss Gwendolyn," he said, smiling down, "a toast!"
And--quite in contrast to the evening of her seventh birthday
anniversary--toast there _was_, deliciously crisp and crunchy!
"Oo! How good!" she exclaimed, not nibbling conventionally, but taking
big bites. "'Cause I hate cake!"
The next moment she became aware of the munching of others. And on
looking round, found that she was back at the Den. She was not
surprised. Things had a way of coming to pass in a pleasantly
instantaneous fashion. And she was glad to see the little old gentleman,
the Piper and the Policeman each fairly gobbling up a pellet. Miss
Royle was eating, too, and Jane was stuffing _both_ mouths.
But Puffy was having quite different fare. In front of him stood the
Doctor, busily feeding filmy white bits into the tear just under a
fore-leg.
"I think you'll find," assured the latter, "that a proper amount of
cotton-batting is most refreshing."
"Once I wanted Jane to take me to the Doll Hospital," complained Puffy,
his shoe-button eyes hard with resentment; "but she said I was only a
little beast."
Gwendolyn looked severe. "Jane, you'll be sorry for that," she scolded.
"Ah-_ha!_ my dear!" said the Man-Who-Makes-Faces, addressing the nurse,
"at last one of your chickens is coming home to roost!"
Gwendolyn glanced up. And, sure enough, a chicken _was_ going past--a
small blue hen, who looked exceedingly fagged. (This was an occurrence
worth noting. How often had she heard the selfsame remark--and never
seen as much as a feather!)
Jane also saw the blue hen. And appeared much disconcerted. "I think
I'll take forty winks," she hummed; "--twenty for the front face, and
twenty for the back." Whereupon she made a few quick revolutions,
landing up against the granite base of the obelisk.
The Doctor had been sewing up the tear in Puffy's coat. Now he finished
his seam and knotted the thread. "There!" said he, cheerily. "You're as
good as new!"
"Thank you," said Puffy. "And I feel so grateful to you, Miss Gwendolyn,
that I must repay your kindness. You've always heard a certain
statement about Jane, yonder. Well, I'm going to prove that it's
_true_."
"What's true?" asked Gwendolyn, puzzled.
He made no answer. But after a short whispered conference with the
Policeman, turned his back and began sniffing and snarling under his
breath, while a fore-paw was busy in the region of his third rib. When
he faced round again, the shoe-button eyes were shining triumphantly,
and he was holding both fore-paws together tightly.
"I found one!" he cried. And wabbling over to Jane, stationed himself on
one side of her, at the same time motioning the Officer to steal round
to the other side on quiet hands.
And now Gwendolyn saw that Jane, though she was only feigning sleep,
was ignorant of what was happening. For her double equipment of faces
had its disadvantages. Even when upright she had not been able to roll
one eye forward while its mate was on guard in the rear. And reclining
flat upon her back, she could not rumble her eyes forward to her front
face for the reason that they would not roll up-hill. Both stayed in the
back of her head, where they could see only the ground.
Very cautiously Puffy put his fore-paws to Jane's ear--suddenly
separated them--and waited.
A moment. Then, "Well, finding _this_ out, you can wager I don't stay
heels over head no more!" cried the Policeman. And with a wriggle and a
twist and a bound, he gave a half somersault and stood on his feet!
At once, the bottoms of his trouser-legs came down over his shoes, his
coat-tails fell about him properly, uncovering his shield and his belt,
and his club took its place at his right side. "Ouch!" he exclaimed. And
began to scratch hard at the spot just between his shoulder-blades. At
the same time, the tears that were in his cap flowed out and down his
face. So that he seemed to be weeping.
The Doctor, leaning close beside Gwendolyn, was all sympathy. "There is
no reason to feel bad," he said kindly. "The operation was successful."
"Feel bad!" repeated the Policeman. "Why, I'm _laughing_. Ha! Ha! We put
a flea in her ear!"
At that, Jane began to laugh "Oh, laws!" she exclaimed, sleeve to mouth
once more. "Oh, I never heard the like of it!"
"_Rar!_" growled Puffy, delighted. "The plan is working! See her
growl!"
"That flea went in one ear and came out the other," declared the little
old gentleman, poking Jane with the toe of a worn shoe.
Jane laughed the harder. "Oh, it's awful funny!" she cried, rocking
herself to and fro--and steadily increasing her girth. "Oh! Oh! Oh!"
"We've proved that you're empty-headed," said Puffy.
And now the nurse was seized by a very paroxysm of mirth. Both faces
distorted, she whopped over and over.
"That's right! Split your sides alaughin'," cried the Piper.
At these words, sudden terror showed on her face. For the first time she
saw the trap into which she had been led!
Yet she could not check her laughter. "Oh, ho!" she gasped
hysterically; "_oh!_--"
It was her last. Black sateen could stand no more.
She gave a final and feeble rock. Both revolving faces paled. Then there
sounded a loud _pop_--like the bursting of an automobile tire. Next, a
ripping--
"Look!" cried Gwendolyn.
There were great rents down the front seams of Jane's waist!
The nurse guessed what had happened, and clutched desperately at the
gaping seams with both fat hands--now in front, now at the sides,
striving to hold the rips together.
To no avail! All the laughter was gone out of her. Quickly she
collapsed, her sateen hanging in loose, ragged strips. Once more she was
just ordinary nurse-maid size.
"Oh, will she die?" asked Gwendolyn, anxiously.
The Doctor knelt to grasp Jane's wrist. "No," he answered gravely;
"she'll only have to go back to the Employment Agency."
"I won't!" cried Jane. "_I_ won't!--Miss Royle!"
"_Hiss-ss-ss!_"
"Get you-know-what out of the way! A certain person musn't talk to it!
If she does she'll find--"
"I understand!" hissed back the snake.
_You-know-what?_ Gwendolyn was troubled.
Now the Policeman and the Piper, assisted by Puffy, picked the nurse up
and packed her into the linen-hamper. Whereupon the little old gentleman
slapped down the cover and tied a large tag to it. On the tag was
written--_Employment Agency, Down-Town!_"
"I'm done with _her_" said Gwendolyn; "--if she _is_ a perfectly good
top."
"You're rid of me," answered Jane, calling through the weave of the
hamper "_Yes!_ But how about _Miss Royle?_"
"We'll send her back too," declared the Man-Who-Makes-Faces. "Here!
Where _are_ you?" He ran about, searching.
The others searched also--through the grass, behind the granite shift,
everywhere. Concern sobered each face.
For the snake-in-the-grass was gone!