“Dearie,” she hissed, making an affectionate half-coil about Gwendolyn, “what do you think I’m going to say to you!”

Gwendolyn only shook her head.

“Guess, darling,” encouraged the governess, coiling herself a little closer.

“Maybe you’re going to say, ‘Use your dictionary,’” ventured Gwendolyn.

“Oh, dearie!” chided Miss Royle, managing a very good blush for a snake.

But now Gwendolyn guessed the reason for the other’s sudden display of affection.  For that scaly head was rising out of the grass, inch by inch, and those glittering serpent eyes were fixed upon the Bird!

Unable to move, he watched her, plumage on end, round eyes fairly starting.

“Cheep!  Cheep!”

At his cry of terror, the Doctor interposed.  “I think we’d better take the Bird out of here,” he said.  “The less noise the better.”  And with that, he lifted the small frightened thing from Gwendolyn’s finger.

Miss Royle, quite thrown off her poise, sank hissing to the ground.  “My neuralgia’s worse than ever this evening,” she complained, affecting not to notice his interference.

“Huh!” he grunted.  “Keep away from bargain counters.”

The Piper came jangling up.  “That snake belongs in her case,” he declared, addressing the Doctor.

More than once Gwendolyn had wondered why the Piper had burdened himself—­to all appearances uselessly and foolishly—­with the various pieces of lead pipe.  But now what wily forethought she granted him.  For with a few quick flourishes of the wrench, she saw him join them, end to end, to form one length.  This he threw to the ground, after which he gave a short, sharp whistle.

In answer to it, the Bird fluttered down, and entered one end of the pipe, giving, as he disappeared from sight, one faint cheep.

Miss Royle heard.  Her scaly head glittered up once more.  Her beady eyes shone.  Her tongue darted hate.  Then little by little, that long black body began to move—­toward the pipe!

A moment, and she entered it; another, and the last foot of rustling serpent had disappeared.  Then out of the farther end of the pipe bounced the Bird.  Whereat the Piper sprang to the Bird’s side, produced a nut, and screwed it on the pipe-end.

“How’s that!” he cried triumphantly.

The pipe rolled partly over.  A muffled voice came from it, railing at him:  “Be careful what you do, young man! I saw you had that bonnet of mine!”

“Oh, can a snake crawl backwards?” demanded Gwendolyn, excitedly.

The Piper answered with a harsh laugh.  And scrambling the length of the lead pipe, fell to hammering in a plug.

Miss Royle was a prisoner!

The Bird bounced very high.  “That’s a feather in your cap,” he declared joyously, advancing to the Piper.  And suiting the action to the word, pulled a tiny plume from his own wing, fluttered up, and thrust it under the band of the other’s greasy head-gear.