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Updated: May 13, 2025
For the Man-Who-Makes-Faces looked keenly interested. "Well," resumed the Officer and now he halted just long enough to raise a gloved finger to one side of his head with a significant gesture "when we want to get rid of a person, we put a flea in his ear." Gwendolyn blushed rosy. A flea! It was an insect that Miss Royle had never permitted her to mention. Still
The Policeman seemed not to have remarked her anxiety. "And after the Den, what do we pass?" he questioned. "The Big Rock," answered the Man-Who-Makes-Faces. "Do we have to turn it?" The other spoke with some annoyance. "What's likely to come out? I suppose it won't be hiding that Bird." "There's a hollow under the Rock," said the little old gentleman. "We'll find something." His face grew grave.
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!
"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. 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."
Next, a freckled face filled the whole of the opening, spying this way and that. It was Jane! "Come, dearie," she cooed. Here's your beautiful car, love. This is what'll take you fast to your papa and mamma." "No!" cried Gwendolyn. And to the Man-Who-Makes-Faces, "She was 'fraid of the Piper just a little while ago. Now, she's riding around with him. I think he's "
She looked sidewise at Jane, reflecting that the nurse had given him quite another character. "Yes; and I protect old, old people." "Huh!" snorted the Man-Who-Makes-Faces. "You protect old people, eh? Well, how about old organ-grinders?" "You ought to know," answered the Officer promptly. "I guess you didn't give me that black eye for nothing."
Swinging as usual from a shoulder was the poke. Gwendolyn thought she had never seen a prettier one. Its ribbon bows were fresh and smart; its lace was snow-white and neatly frilled. "Oh, I know she'll make the trade!" she exclaimed happily. The Piper considered the matter, pursing his lips around the pipe-stem in his mouth; standing on one foot. Gwendolyn appealed to the Man-Who-Makes-Faces.
Man-Who-Makes-Faces," she began timidly, "do you mean the Piper that everybody has to pay?" "Exactly," replied the little old gentleman. "He's out collecting some pay for me now from a dishonest fellow who didn't settle for two dozen ears that I boxed and sent him."
And I shouldn't wonder if he isn't coming to match it!" But what temporary confidence she gained, fled when Jane, tettering from side to side, began to threaten in a most terrifying way. "Now, young Miss!" she cried. "Now, you're goin' to be sorry you didn't mind Jane! Oh, I told you he'd git you some fine day!" The Man-Who-Makes-Faces retorted what, Gwendolyn did not hear.
His club bumped the side of his head at every stride of his long blue-clad arms. His identification was complete. For precisely as Thomas had declared, he was heels over head. "My!" breathed Gwendolyn, so astonished that she almost forgot to be anxious for her own safety. The Man-Who-Makes-Faces addressed her, smiling down.
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