The Bad Dreams were all aroused by Thunder-snorer's war-whoop, and in an instant the whole pack of them, headed by Manunderthebed, were at the children's heels. Rudolf and Ann ran as fast as ever they could, dragging Peter after them, but it was both difficult and dangerous to run fast through that dark wood, especially as they had no idea in what direction they ought to go. Each moment they expected to be overtaken, each moment they seemed to feel Manunderthebed's long black arm stretched out to drag them back to their prison—or to something worse.

Then suddenly from just ahead of them came the sound of a great crashing and rustling among the bushes and the tramp of approaching feet. Some new danger—perhaps something worse than what was behind them—seemed to threaten the children, but they were too breathless, too bewildered even to try to avoid it. On they ran—straight into the arms of a tall figure who was hurrying to meet them, a knight dressed in shining armor wearing a plumed helmet on his handsome head. At the same moment a troop of little tin soldiers broke through the bushes and rushed past the children to attack the Bad Dreams. All of them were quickly put to flight except their leader, Manunderthebed, who at first sight of the soldiers had hidden himself behind a tree. As soon as they had passed he crept forth and made a dart at the children. But they had a protector now! The tall knight stepped in front of them and raised his glittering sword. Before he could bring it down, the cowardly King of the Bad Dreams gave a horrible yell and turned to run. He might have escaped, but as he passed Rudolf the boy put out his foot and tripped him up. There the rascal lay on his back, kicking wildly, while the Knight stood guard over him. Seen close by, Manunderthebed was not quite so dreadful as when he crouched in his dark haunt near the hollow tree, but still his shaggy fur, sharp white teeth, and gleaming green eyes were very terrifying to Ann, who gave a little shriek and turned her face away. "Don't be afraid," cried the Knight. "This is the end of Manunderthebed!" And he stooped and caught hold of the shaggy fellow by the shoulder. A crack, a rip, and the whole silly disguise came away in one piece, fur suit, teeth, claws, and green glass eyes. The terrible King of the Bad Dreams was just a big naughty boy in knickerbockers who kicked and cried and begged to be let go! The children had to laugh, they could not help it, to hear him blubber and whine and promise over and over again that he'd never, no, never frighten little girls and boys any more! So at last the Knight let him scramble to his feet and rush off through the woods as fast as he could go.

"That's the last of him" said the children's protector smiling, "but now tell me, you three, what do you think of the change in my appearance?"

For a moment the three children stared up at the tall figure, admiring yet puzzled, then Ann clapped her hands and shouted: "Oh, I know now who you are—you're the Knight-mare!"

The tall figure swept off his helmet and made Ann such a low bow that his fair curling locks brushed the ground, fluttering like yellow plumes about his ruddy face. "I'm all knight now," cried he, "and none of me mare. I'm a Good Dream now, and I've no doubt she'll be rather pleased to get me back—the lady I belong to in the castle, you know. I'm wearing her glove, as you may perceive."

"But how did it happen?" asked Ann, fingering the helmet with the greatest admiration.

"Well," said the Knight, "as soon as you children were imprisoned in the hollow tree I managed to escape from those fellows and rushed off to Sandy to get you help. I found he had already sent to the Corn-cob Queen for rescuers and just as we were talking they arrived. I agreed to guide their leader through the woods to Manunderthebed's place if he would first settle a certain little matter for me—that one your brother wasn't very anxious to tackle, you know. Well, when I asked him if he'd cut off my head, he said he'd just as lief as not!"

All three children burst out laughing.

"There's only one person we've met as fierce as that," said Ann, "and that's Captain Jinks."

"Captain Jinks—at your service," snapped a sharp voice at her elbow, and turning, Ann found the little tin captain standing beside her. "I have to report," said he, wheeling around to Rudolf and saluting him stiffly—"the enemy—routed completely!"

Never, never had the children expected to be so glad to meet the little captain again! They thanked him heartily for his part in their splendid rescue, and asked him what he thought it was best to do next.

"Sound a recall," answered the officer, "and return in good order according to commands."

"Whose commands, Captain Jinks?" Rudolf wanted to know, but Jinks would not answer any more questions just then. He recalled those of his fierce little soldiers who, with the sergeant at their head, were still chasing the last remnants of the Bad Dreams back to the depths of the wood, formed them into marching order, and taking the head of the procession himself, placed the children directly behind him under the protection of the Knight. They were anxious to have the little captain explain all the particulars of their rescue, but found it very hard indeed to make him talk while on duty. He marched so fast that they had to trot to keep up with him, and stared straight ahead without winking an eye. "Queen's orders," was all they could at first get out of him.

"But, Jinks, dear, who was it brought the message to the Queen?" Ann coaxed.

"Traveling Gentleman!" The little captain made a disgusted face. "He's a nice one! Said nobody was being shut up nowhere, nor didn't want to be rescued."

For a moment the children were puzzled, then Rudolf called out, "Oh, I know—the False Hare!"

They all laughed and Ann said: "I suppose Sandy didn't know any better than to send him, but I should think he'd make a pretty funny messenger!"

"Make a better pie," said Jinks grimly, and not another word could they get out of him after that. They were now coming to that part of the wood Ann and Rudolf remembered so well, where the kindly Knight had rescued them from the attack of the tiresome Fidgets. They looked about for signs of the little creatures' presence in the branches overhead, and listened for their chattering laughter, but the coming of so large a company must have scared the cowardly Fidgets away, for not a trace of them was to be seen.

At last the procession struck the little path Sandy had pointed out to the children, and in another moment it was being met and greeted by a whole troop of Good Dreams who had rushed to welcome the returning party and escort them back to the glade. Here they found the whole family assembled: the Cook-that-liked-living-in-the-Country, the Gardener-with-the-Generous-Disposition, the Pink Stockings, the Nice Nurse, the Good Baby, the Easter Rabbit, the Birthday Cake, the Organ Man, the Tall Candlesticks, and the Jolly Santa Claus—one and all of the Good Dreams, with Noddy and Blink, the two fat boys, and—best of all—old Sandy himself, a twinkle in his sleepy eyes, a grin on his round good-humored face.

"Well, well, well," cried he. "Glad to see you back again, my friends! Guess you've had enough of the bad 'uns—eh, young man?" And he gave Peter a kindly dig in the ribs. Peter grinned and looked rather foolish but said nothing. "And now," went on Sandy, pushing aside the excited dreams that crowded round him, "make way, all of you! Let these young people see who's come to welcome them." He led the children across the glade to where, throned on a pile of sacks, sat the Corn-cob Queen! There she was in her greeny-yellowy gown, her little head erect, her sweet face smiling, her tiny hands stretched out to greet the children. They could have hugged her, but they didn't dare, she looked, in spite of being just a doll and an old-fashioned one at that, so truly like a Queen. Back of her majesty stood a group of doll ladies-in-waiting dressed in their gayest clothes, and among them were Ann's very own children, Marie-Louise and Angelina-Elfrida! They did not look haughty or naughty or cross any more, but smiled sweetly at their little mother.

"Yes," said the Queen, "I have come to welcome you back, dears, and to say good-by, for I suppose you would like to go home to your Aunt Jane now, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, yes, indeed, please your Majesty," cried Rudolf and Ann in one breath—but Peter said nothing. He was gazing rather regretfully at the False Hare who lounged near by, smoking his chocolate cigarette and polishing the nap of his silk hat with the back of his paw. The False Hare winked at Peter and edged a little closer to him. "Mighty glad to see the last of you, old chap," he whispered. Then Peter smiled all over, he was so pleased.

"Yes, I suppose it's time for you to be going, if go you really must," sighed Sandy. "And since you're in such a hurry, I'm happy to be able to include you in that consignment of your aunt's after all. She"—and he bowed gallantly to the Queen—"says it's all right, and what she says goes, though to be sure, it's out of order, slightly out of order!" As he spoke he took his list out of his pocket and ran his eye over it once more. "Hullo," said he in a surprised tone, "there's one more item on Miss Jane Mackenzie's and it seems to be missing! Comparatively unimportant, but I like to have my things complete. 'One lost Kitten!' Now what can have become of that, I wonder?"

It was Captain Jinks' voice that broke the silence. "Prisoner of War, sir! Taken with others by the Commander-in-Chief in the recent glorious victory of the tin soldiers over the cat pirates. Here you are, sir!" He motioned to two of the soldiers who stood on guard over something in a dim corner of the glade. The soldiers hustled the object forward. It was Captain Mittens! Mittens despoiled of his scarlet sash, his turban, his sword and pistols, even of his fierce expression! Mittens, no longer a bold and bloody robber of the seas but a humble repentant kitten who let himself be cuddled into Peter's arms without so much as a single scratch.

Peter stroked the pirate—and the pirate purred!

"Now then, all ready? All aboard!" It was Sandy's voice who spoke and Sandy's were the arms that lifted the children gently into the enormous sack held open by Noddy and Blink, and placed them at the top of the toboggan-slide—but they were feeling too curiously tired and sleepy to understand exactly what was happening. Rudolf, still clasping his tin sword—that invaluable weapon—pillowed his sleepy head on the shoulder of the Generous Gardener. Ann rested comfortably on the large lap of the Cook-who-liked-living-in-the-Country, and Peter snuggled close beside her, holding Mittens tightly in his arms.

"Now then, all ready?"

They thought the new non-fadable curtains were packed in somewhere, they thought they saw the kindly face of old Sandy peeping into the mouth of the sack at them while the whole troop of Good Dreams pushed and crowded one another to peer at them over his shoulder. Among all the familiar faces were some they had almost forgotten but were not sorry to see again: the Lady Goose, waving her spoon; the Gentleman Goose, and Squealer and Squawker, his two little duck apprentices; the cheerful grinning countenances of Prowler and Growler, the mates, with Toddles and Towser the common sea-cats. But at the last all grew dim, faded, melted into mist until two figures only stood out clearly and distinctly. One was the Corn-cob Queen smiling and waving her tiny hand in loving farewell, the other that of a little boy in long trousers and a frill collar, a merry-faced boy with a toy sword buckled round his waist and a toy ship in his hand. Though they had not seen him until now, the children recognized him at once. It was the little boy Aunt Jane had told them of—the Little Boy who Went Away to Sea. It was also the Commander-in-Chief of the tin soldiers, whom the Queen had said they might be allowed to see, if they were good.

Just then the children began to feel it impossible to keep their eyes open any longer. They heard the voices of all their friends calling "Good-by", but they could not answer. They tried to get one more glimpse of the Good Dreams, but their eyes dropped shut—they were far away.

In the morning Aunt Jane woke to find all three children in her room. Ann jumped into bed on one side of her, Peter, holding Mittens, snuggled himself on the other, and Rudolf bestrode the foot.

"Why, good morning, dears," she said. "Did you sleep well in the big bed?"

The children looked at one another thoughtfully.

"Did you have good dreams?" asked Aunt Jane politely. "I did, I dreamt about you three all night."

"We had funny dreams," said Rudolf, "at least, I suppose they were—" He stopped, looking very puzzled.

"We woke up laughing," Ann said, "and we got right out of bed to come quickly to tell you something awful funny that happened to us, but now—"

"Now we've forgotten it!" finished Rudolf sadly.

Peter said nothing at all. He looked very grave and thoughtful and squeezed Mittens just a little—only a little too hard. The kitten gave a slight squeak.

"Will you be good now?" whispered Peter in his furry ear. "Will you never run away no more—never?"

But Mittens would not answer.