When Jack and Molly reached the fence that separated their garden from the wood, Jack was surprised to find his slipper still lying there—the slipper he had lost on the way out.

“Oh, I say, Moll,” he said. “Look here—I forgot to give Old Nancy her slipper back, and now I’ve got three slippers all alike!”

Which was in truth the case. As they crossed the garden they noticed that day was just dawning. They found the back door locked, but Jack scrambled through the scullery window, which was unfastened, and so let Molly in without disturbing anybody. They crept upstairs and managed to get an hour’s rest before the breakfast bell rang.

Molly remembered to place her little box on the dressing-table before she went to sleep, and when she woke she saw that the sun was streaming right across it. So she sprang up eagerly and opened the box. Inside was the most exquisite silver bangle that she had ever seen. Molly was delighted, and she found afterward that it had indeed some special charm about it, for she was always happy when wearing it and those around her seemed the same.

At the breakfast-table Mother and Father seemed to the children to glance at them rather curiously.

“Mother,” began Molly, “do you know who gave me this?” and she showed her the silver bracelet.

“Yes,” said Mother to Molly’s surprise. “I know all about it.”

“Why, how did you?” asked Jack.

But “Ah!” was all Mother would say, and she and Father exchanged amused glances.

It was a little puzzling. And even when there arrived by post for Jack a long narrow box containing three paint-brushes, Mother and Father never asked whom they were from, although there was no name inside.

“I suppose there’s no need for us to tell you all about our adventure, if you know already?” remarked Jack. “Do you know everything?”

“Everything,” replied Mother, smiling.

Of course the grey pumpkin pincushion had entirely vanished from Molly’s dressing-table, and she never set eyes on it again, though she wrote and thanked Aunt Phoebe for her ‘useful present.’

Jack and Molly often wonder where the Grey Pumpkin and his spies are. They have never seen any of them yet, though Molly has seen a ticket-collector who reminds her somewhat of the old watchmaker. Both children keep a watchful eye on all shops that sell hassocks, and always glance eagerly round the room when they are invited out to tea anywhere, but so far they have not come across the Grey Pumpkin.