ALL this time nurse had been revolving the occurrences of the two previous nights in her own mind without, however, arriving at any definite conclusion. She had not been long from the old country and was full of superstitious ideas about fairies and goblins. She had done a great deal of thinking and found much satisfaction in expounding her theories to Maggie, the housemaid.

“Sure, whatever it was, it’s bad enough that they destroyed me iligant bonnet,” she remarked, as the two girls lingered over their early luncheon. “But worse it is that poor John’s wits was nearly gone intirely.”

Maggie nodded, at the same time casting a furtive glance over her shoulder, as if she half expected to see the author of all the direful “goings on” walking in at the kitchen door.

“Sure and he’s all right now, but do ye’s think it was rats he saw?” she inquired, dropping another lump of sugar into her cup of tea.

“There’s more nor rats,” replied nurse sententiously as she folded her napkin and picked up Peter Pan, who had been left perched on the window sill by Sally, who dearly loved to get down into the cosy kitchen, for she and cook were great friends. That very morning she had been allowed to bake a panful of the most delicious little cookies, under cook’s supervision, of course. She had quite forgotten Peter Pan in her delighted interest in this new and absorbing employment, and had left him stranded, high and dry, on the window sill, when she hurried off upstairs to show to mamma the results of her domestic economy.

Now the Teddy bear was naturally very much offended that he had not been invited to taste the goodies at which he had been sniffing hungrily during their preparation; much more so that he had been left behind when Sally carried them away. Therefore he was now in anything but a pleasant frame of mind and felt very much inclined to bite nurse when she picked him up and carried him off to the nursery.

“Sure and there’s more nor rats,” she repeated half aloud as she ran up the back stairs with Peter Pan upside down under her arm. The bear certainly acquiesced most emphatically in this idea, but as it was not his time for being active he could only do so in his own mind.

Peter Pan’s visit to the kitchen had put an entirely new idea into his bearish head. He had never been down there before and now discovered, for the first time, from whence came all the delectable dishes that appeared on the dining-room table. It had become a decidedly difficult matter to forage for his good sized family, as there were few edibles to be found above stairs. To be sure, nurse liked a bit of a lunch before she went to bed, and Sally usually had a glass of warm milk on retiring. But the scraps and leavings from these repasts were slender, and their disappearance had so emphasized the theory of rats that a couple of ominous looking traps had been baited with toasted cheese and set in the nursery.

Peter Pan was dreadfully afraid of being caught in one of them and for some time gave them a wide berth. The cheese, however, smelt deliciously, and at last the desire to possess the toothsome morsels so far overcame his fear that he attempted to poke it out with nurse’s big shears, purloined for the purpose from her work basket. But he had only succeeded in springing the trap, without securing the cheese, while the scissors were caught and held firmly in spite of all the Teddy bear’s efforts to dislodge them.

This being discovered in the morning, it added another mystery to the already long list of queer “doin’s,” as nurse called them.

Only Rough House was beginning to have an idea or two in his doggish head, mere suspicions that he could not have been able to communicate to any one except to Rags, the little fox terrier, even had he been able to confirm them.

Rough House and Rags both disliked Peter Pan cordially, as they had always, heretofore, been Sally’s prime favorites, and were now feeling rather neglected since the advent of the Teddy bears.

And indeed Peter Pan returned their sentiments with interest partly because he was dreadfully afraid of both dogs and partly because he considered that Rough House poked his sharp nose into a great deal of business that was anything but his own, and was therefore to be proportionately feared.

Rough House was scarcely out of the puppy stage and the Teddy bear had often trembled for himself and his family, chiefly, I am afraid, for his own hide, as he watched the big fellow running off to his lair under the head of Sally’s bed and close up against the wall, an almost impregnable fastness where it was practically impossible to get at him, carrying in his mouth various belongings of Sally’s which he proceeded to tear and rend in a leisurely manner.

Of course Peter Pan could not understand that it was quite as much the ache and pain of the rapidly arriving second teeth which caused a desire to bite on something or anything, as a craving for destructiveness, which caused all these reprehensible proceedings.

The results, however, were just as disheartening, the dog having even levied on the doll’s house and chewed up a bedstead and the beautiful celluloid infant who happened to be reposing in it. So nurse now draped the open front of the house each night with a sheet, and Rough House’s depredations in that direction ceased perforce.

Once, indeed, Maggie had essayed to poke him out of his stronghold under the bed with her broom, when he was tearing up Sally’s beloved little red bedroom slippers. But the dog, unheeding Maggie’s weapon of offense, had merely turned his head and looked over his shoulder, baring every one of his white fangs in such an unearthly grin that Maggie fled in disorder and Sally’s footgear was left to its tragic fate.

Sally was so much annoyed by the loss of her favorite slippers that she resolved to punish the dog by tying the small remnant of them around his neck, where they remained, flapping, until they fell to pieces. Whereupon Rough House fell upon the fragments with avidity and the last state of his vandalism was worse than the first.

Two weeks had elapsed since the adventures of the Teddy bears in the attic. Peace had descended on the troubled household and every thing was jogging along comfortably and quietly.

But just at this stage of the game Peter Pan made up his mind that it was time to visit the kitchen, as his family, especially Bedelia, who had grown more surly than ever, were complaining bitterly of short rations. His only fear was of Rough House, who slept in the nursery. The dog had been on the alert ever since Peter Pan’s last escapade with the rat trap, but as nothing in particular had happened since then, was now somewhat relaxing his vigilance.

On this particular night, the whole family being wolfishly hungry, Bedelia declared that they should wait no longer, and Peter Pan consented, although not without some misgivings, to lead a raid on the kitchen.