CHAPTER XII

It occurred to Gwendolyn that it would be a very good idea to stop turning stones.  The first one set bottom-side up had resulted in the arrival of Jane.  And whereas the Policeman had appeared when the second was dislodged, here, following the accidental stub of a toe, were these two—­the Piper and Thomas.

The Man-Who-Makes-Faces hurried across to her, his expression dubious.  “Bitter pill!” he exclaimed, with a sidewise jerk of the ragged hat.  “Gall and wormwood!”

“Oh, yes!” For—­sure enough!—­there was an ill-flavored taste on her lips—­a taste that made her regret having lost the candy.

Next, the Policeman came tick-tocking up.  “The scheme was to kidnap you,” he declared wrathfully.

“And keep me from finding my fath-er and moth-er,” added Gwendolyn.  Now she understood why Jane was so pleased with the choice of the automobile road!  And she realized that all along there was never any danger of her being kidnaped by strangers, but by the two who, their past ill-feeling evidently forgotten, were at this very moment chuckling and chattering together, ugly heads touching—­the eary head and the head with the double face!

Seeing the Policeman and the little old gentleman in conversation with Gwendolyn, the Piper slouched over.  “Look a-here!” he began roughly, addressing all three; “you’re goin’ to make a great big mistake if you antagonize a man that belongs to a Labor Union.” (Just so had he spoken the day he fixed the broken hot-water pipe.)

“Bosh!” cried the Policeman.  “What do we care about him! Why, he’ll never even get through the Gate!”

Gwendolyn was puzzled. What Gate?  And why would Thomas not get through it?  Then looking round to where he was conspiring with Jane, she saw what she believed was a very good explanation:  He would never even get through the Gate because (a simple reason!) the nurse would not be able to get through.

For by now Jane was not only as round as a barrel, but she was fully as large—­what with so much happy giggling over Thomas’s arrival.  Moreover, having toppled sidewise, she looked like a barrel—­a barrel upholstered in black sateen, with a neat touch of white at collar and cuffs!

“He’s been in trouble before,” continued the Policeman, stormily.  “But this time—!” And letting himself down flat upon his head, he shook both neatly shod feet in the Piper’s face.

It was now that Gwendolyn chanced, for the first time, to examine the latter’s bundle.  And was surprised to discover that it was nothing less than a large poke-bonnet—­of the fluffy, lacy, ribbony sort.  And she was admiring it, for it was of black silk, and handsome, when something within it stirred!

She retreated—­until the night-stick and the kidnaper knife were between her and the poke.  “Hadn’t we better be st-starting?” she faltered nervously.